


Emptiness’s Child

by Alexandria_Allen



Series: The Chronicles of Jareth [1]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Labyrinth (1986), Legend (1985), Merlin (1998), The Neverending Story (Movies), The Wizard of Oz & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crossover, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Neverending Story - Freeform, legend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-01 19:41:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 80,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13301853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexandria_Allen/pseuds/Alexandria_Allen
Summary: Xayide was once one of the most feared sorceress in Fantasia and beyond. Without a heart she was all powerful. But when Bastian made his final wish he did more than just produce a beating heart inside the woman. He created a child. A child born of the hearts desire, a child born of a wish. Jareth is the Goblin King but he is also more than even he knows.





	1. A Veiled Warning

 

Jareth was the direct product of a wish.

A wish uttered by a human boy who had once been called to save a Child-Like Empress and perhaps even the very fabric of the world that was the vast Underground. Or maybe the land known as Fantasia was merely one of the middle places that existed in the narrow space between the dream world and the real one.

In any case, Jareth's origins could be traced back to the powerful and reclusive sorceress Xayite.

At one time considered to be one of the most villainous women in the underground until her corrupt soul was made whole and purified. Xayite had once been a faceless dancing servant of a soon of Night known best as Darkness

. When Darkness had been driven back into the void, Xayite had been left behind.

She had been a bound servant of Darkness abruptly and cruelly liberated from a master that she both loved and mindlessly served. Xayite had never forgotten the long ago slight that had forever defined and also shattered her identity and, when she was powerful enough, she had sought to wage war against the entire world that she found herself a prisoner of.

Xayite had very nearly succeeded and obliterating everything.

Eventually though, her deeds had been forgiven or forgotten depending on who you asked.

Having no heart of her own because she was a creation of Darkness, the ambiguously worded wish uttered by the human boy who had saved all of the realm of Fantasia and the greater realms beyond it on more than one occasion, had manifested a living child within Xayite's womb.

Jareth's heart beating within her own body had served to fill the deep void within Xayite and had served as a replacement for the heart she did not actually possess.

Upon his birth Jareth inherited much of his mother's unique abilities that was further reinforced by the nature of his origins and by the common tendency of magical disposition that came with being born in the underground itself.

Some said though that despite his magical predisposition and the unique circumstances of his birth, Jareth possessed a human heart and a soul that was bound in two worlds. The world of Faerie and the world of above.

His uniqueness was not without its difficulties.

In some form of thinking Jareth wasn't really a man or a fae. Rather, he was something of a magical embodiment.

As an embodiment Jareth was not afforded many of the same privileges and advantages of most beings that were free. He lacked, for example, the ability to travel beyond the confines of the great magical maze that was the Labyrinth unless he was in the form of the barn owl that many speculated had some deeper significance that no one but Jareth understood. However, like some of the other magical beings Jareth had the advantage of being able to travel between realities and, some said, into the dreams of beings from other places all together.

As a result, he was a man who knew of many things that most common folks of the Underground did not.

Jareth's unique situation had other conditions.

Like his mother, Jareth was a magical servant. While he didn't operate under the same magical obligations as some beings did in order to maintain their magical potency, Jareth could still be magically bound to specific situations and individuals who called upon his unique services and abilities.

Under the constraints of serving another, Jareth could enjoy luxuries he did not regularly possess under his own power. Yet for all the advantages that came with being in service to another being, Jareth was far from free.

If it was not one thing that consumed his time and energy, it was another thing.

At current, the Goblin King was out of house.

Flying no doubt as he always did in the early morning before the sun had yet to fully rise off the horizon line. Jareth often flew and prefer to remain in the form of a barn owl. In its form he could pass between the worlds and leave the Goblin kingdom which was generally surrounded by a vast arid waste land.

Sooner or later no matter how long he flew and what he explored something always interrupted his reverie and forced him to return home.

The present morning was no exception.

No sooner had Jareth just begun to relax and enjoy himself on his flight did the mysterious magical link that connected the Goblin King to the more private area of his domain began to tingle and demand his attention. It was sort of like having an annoying internal buzzer that told Jareth when he was being summoned back to the castle either by the goblins or by someone else. While Jareth could technically ignore the summoning if he wished to in this case, his sense of responsibility wouldn't allow him to ignore the intrusion in general and since his mornings were almost always guaranteed to be interrupted anyway Jareth was inclined to simply cut his flight short and return to the great castle.

It took only moments for the Goblin King to return to the throne room of the castle which was actually a large rectangular reception hall and enthroning area different from the smaller circular observation room he had once used to observe the whereabouts of a mortal girl who had been stupid enough to get caught up in a fairy enchantment.

It wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last.

The throne room was mostly empty and minimally decorated. While Jareth kept the castle in good working order he was not the type to drape his surroundings in opulence nor was there any need to clutter the place up with too much furniture since the goblins were notoriously hard on things and it was best to give them little ammo to playfully attack each other with or destroy in the celebration of their goblin revelries.

Flying in swiftly through a high up window the form of the barn owl landed before the high backed throne that was situated on a low dais within the room. Just before the owls claws made contact with the chair the owl's form shifted into the Goblin King practically right in front of the guest whose presence had summoned him.

"Mim! What, may I ask, are you doing here?" Jareth inquired in a annoyed and menacing manner.

The doe eyed curly haired strawberry blond woman who dressed in a almost obscenely low cut cotton candy pink gown jumped back from where she stood after she turned her face idly only to suddenly find an annoyed looking Goblin King grimacing at her from the atop the step of the dais where he no doubt had appeared.

"Oh! Your Majesty, can't a lady make a social call?" Mim instinctively stuck her long thin wand uncharacteristically behind her back as if she was afraid that Jareth might grab it and snap it in two if he got too annoyed with her.

The worry wasn't exactly unfounded since Jareth certainly wouldn't have tolerated Mim or anyone else dangling anything in his face.

"I'm here on formal business anyway. You know, there's rumors that you're becoming quite sedate. I'm here to tell you that the High Council is getting rather concerned over your lack of magical magnanimity. Human's need us after all. They're rather unless creatures on the whole, and besides all of us are expected to pay our dues. Even you." Mim pointed out.

"I am quite aware of my responsibilities. I don't need such a creature as you reminding me of them." Jareth said cuttingly.

"Temper, temper. You shouldn't speak that way to a lady such a myself. I think you've been sitting around in this dump with your little pets moping long enough and so does the High Council. You should be more appreciative of the few friends you have courteous enough to tell you so." Mim muttered feigning indignity.

"First of all, Mim, you and I are my no span of the imagination friends. Secondly, the High Council has no jurisdiction over what I do or do not do with my time. Unlike you and many others like you, I do not merely live to offer wayward advice and assistance to passing human's stupid enough to get themselves into magical and melodramatic situations. My purpose is to govern this kingdom among other things and I take those tasks very seriously." Jareth muttered pointedly at the women whom he did not particularly like.

"Finally, the goblins are not pets. They are powerful magical beings that must be tended to and given structure if they are to be properly contained. You will treat my subjects with respect, Mim, or kindly get out of my domain. And anyway why are YOU playing messenger anyway? Your own track record assisting human's is not exactly pristine. I find it hard to believe someone from the High Council sent you of all people to lecture me." Jareth challenged still standing and staring daggers at her.

"Oh, your majesty. How your words wound me." Mim muttered without sincerity as she swooned slightly and placed the back of her hand against her forehead. "You and I were very good friends once upon a time. Though you like to forget. And though your feels have changed I at least still have some semblance of personal consideration. You are being brought under the eye of Queen Mag, herself. Whatever the supposedly pleasantries involved that detail remains a poorly hidden fact. As for your...Subjects. I meant no offense. Please excuse me."

At this Mim bowed deeply in pardon. Caring little for whether Jareth accepted it or not.

"Anyway, consider yourself warned. I was sent here on official business and I intend to avoid being further inconvenienced. In the mean time I would much appreciate if you'd make yourself somewhat useful and magic me up a seat or pillow or something. I am a guest, after all."

Mim waited for Jareth to oblige her refusing to continue there conversation or leave until he provided her with an appropriate level of hospitality.

Jareth ultimately appeased her using one of his crystals to manifest a flowery pink flowered tuffet with gold cord before he took his own seat upon the throne.

"Thank you. I'm glad to see that wasn't so hard." Mim said before tip toeing around the tuffet and settling upon it. "I've volunteered to extend to you a message from the High Council. It's your turn to host the Council's Centennial Ball. You do have a kingdom after all and in this case you are obligated to accept. Here."

Mim produced a large envelope from her skirts and tossed it in the Goblin King's lap. As she did this she also grabbed part of a gold tassel hanging from the back of the tuffet and ripped it off, palming it in her wand hand as she fluttered her eyes as the Goblin King in a satisfied manner.

"Well," Mim said on an exhale. "I think that about does it for me. I'll be going now, I think. Busy busy. I simply can't wait for you to make good on the Council's demands. You know I never miss a good show."

At that Mim winked at the Goblin King before she stood and swished her wand once in a circle in front of her. Her presence popping in a explosion of pink tinted sugar scented bubbles leaving only her sugar sweet scent in the air and the abused tuffet behind.

Jareth was glad to see the pink monstrosity go.

Although he didn't consider Mim to be a threat or anything other than an annoyance, Jareth didn't trust her unexpected appearance and was wary of why the woman was bothering to grace his door. Jareth plucked the envelop Mim had thrown at him out of his lap and frowned at it. There could be no mistaking its origins or authenticity and the implications along with Mim's sincere warning unnerved him.

Mim was correct about one thing.

If the High Council of the Goodneighbor's were commanding that Jareth host the Centennial Ball then he could not refuse them. Part of his custodianship of the Labyrinth and the Goblin Kingdom dictated that he offer up his holdings for their use. The problem was that Jareth didn't like the idea of anyone having such unregulated access to his domain. There were powerful secrets hidden within the Goblin Kingdom that would prove difficult to protect if he had to contend with alot of high minded magical folks of various abilities and influences tromping about the castle, the goblin city, and perhaps the Labyrinth itself.

Jareth had never enjoyed political intrigue and balls always seemed to bring out trouble. Besides the various Good and undoubtedly Bad Neighbor's that would be in attendance, invitations would also be extended to the far off surrounding kingdoms who were more likely to secretly squabble over power and influence. Apart of Jareth did not savor the possibility of the Goblin Kingdom being included in the folds of anyone else's plans.

The Goblin kingdom was a neutral sovereignty for a reason and Jareth intended to keep it that way. Not bothering to open the formal notice Jareth signed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand hoping in vein that he could wish this part of his responsibilities away.

As for Mim, being what essentially amounted by human standards to be a Fairy Go(o)d Mother; Mim was gifted with certain advantages other magical folk were not. Namely Mim had the ability to transport at will between the magical world of the Underground and the Above world of humanity. To be sure she took full advantage of this ability.

Mim greatly enjoyed humans. She found many of their vices to be appealing to her and since she had no concern for money or status she could more or less selfishly use her presence in the human world to entertain herself. Among other things, Mim enjoyed a good party and she liked vain vices of beauty and glamour. But being what she was not all fun and games.

Technically, Mim was a Go(o)d Mother and there was an expectation that she occasionally us her powers and abilities to guide certain human's down a better path if she possibly could.

It was basically the whole Cinderella story.

Every century or so Mim was supposed to answer the call of some unfortunate sap and liberate them from their earthly woes.

While the mechanics were a little vague, if Mim didn't do it then she ran the risk of having her powers dwindle and her magical influence taken away from her. A fate Mim had no intention of ever submitting to. It was bad enough that she could only stay in the human realm for a limited time every day if she didn't want to get temporarily trapped and reduced to the abilities of a mortal for an entire lifetime.

Mim had been there and done that and it generally was not an experience that she was eager to duplicate. Even if she had eventually coped and even enjoyed the experience after a while.

The Cafe she ran in Boston had originally been a genuine source of income and shelter when Mim had accidentally lingered too long and gotten stuck for the duration of a natural human lifetime in the Above Ground. Now it served more as a nostalgic reminder of her time in Boston as well as a kind of trap for unsuspecting humans Mim had a mind to "help".

And sometimes, just sometimes, Mim liked to cause a little trouble of her own just to spice things up. The rules of her kind did not stipulate that she couldn't cause as much trouble as she cured. And sometimes causing a problem was much more amusing than being the solution.

Mim smiled to herself as she popped into existence in the back room of her cafe shop. Instead of the cotton candy pink gown she'd worn while visiting the Goblin Kingdom, Mim was now dressed in jeans and a peach colored bodice over a transparent cream colored undershirt that was gathered at the shoulders. The tight jeans and low cut bodice was bordering on inappropriate for the workplace but since Mim was the boss she dressed as she liked.

"Come on, you stupid thing." Mim muttered as she held up the golden cord shed stolen from the tuffet she'd been sitting on to the light and shook it once and then twice in her hand.

After about half a minute the cord suddenly transformed back into a round clear crystal. Innocent looking and flawless.

"Bingo." Mim whispered in satisfaction. "You should fetch a pretty penny to the discerning eye of some unsuspecting schmuck. And with any luck Im bound to have a little fun."

Mim pulled a handkerchief from between her breasts and briefly polished the crystal before she hovered to the front display window and set the crystal on a small silk cushion with a small sign in front of it reading "BEST OFFER". Mim then moved over to the shops door and turned the hanging sign over to OPEN.

Now the only thing left to do was to wait.


	2. The Magician, the Elf, and the Forgetful

While Mim waited in the above to stir up her own mischief, Jareth spent the rest of the morning making plans.

His first order of business was to discuss plans for the castle itself.

Besides the trivial importance of writing up invitations and hand picking who was and was not to be formally invited, Jareth had to figure out what he was going to do about the goblins themselves.

While typically scattered when left to their own devices, Goblins had an amazing ability to organize when they were given a unifying task. On some level the species had a sort of collective voice and mind space that could be tapped into and drawn together into a single focused force such as the time Sarah Williams activated the Goblin's magic and awoke them from their individual slumber. The taking of Toby Williams had been masterfully organized and had had little to do with Jareth himself until after the fact. In that situation Jareth had simply been a messenger and the situation had not really involved him directly until Sarah Williams had entered into a bargain with him specifically designed to get Toby back.

When it was warranted the goblins could also focus their attentions and produce impressive feats of theatrics among other things. Yet in general they were perceived as stupid, foolish, and dirty creatures by most other intelligent beings. Likened in some places to vermin.

Hosting the ball presented the unique challenge of staving off such catty presumptions. Presumptions off which Jareth knew there would be many, both secret and obvious.

The solution of course was to enchant the goblins in the same way he had once enchanted them when he's preyed on the inner desires of Sarah Williams dreams. So long as people were in the castle the goblins would take human form. An enchantment that was limited to the castle itself. Jareth was not made of magic after all, and while the power of the Labyrinth amplified his abilities greatly even the Goblin King had his limitations. Jareth would have to anchor the enchantment to the castle itself since he did not have the stamina to uphold the spell by himself. But in doing so he also wouldn't have direct control over the spell at all times.

In any case, it couldn't be helped.

There was also the matter of consulting the Labyrinth's advising council. A task he was not particularly looking forward to simply because it was a nuisance to bring all of them together at once especially over such matters as he had to discuss with them.

Sighing Jareth summoned his Labyrinth guards and ordered them to summon the Labyrinth Council to assemble as soon as possible. With his luck the business was going to waste the entire day.

While the Goblins preceded to do his bidding, Jareth got up out of his throne and made his way to his observation tower. Unlike the goblins who scurried about the castle quite quickly, Jareth used his abilities to get to places in the castle at will. while it still typically required him to walk through an entrance, he could more or less come and go wherever he wanted in the castle. The observation room was a favorite place for the goblin king because the high window allowed him to look out over the maze. For once the space was more or less empty with the exception of a goblin or two that had passed out or fallen asleep and it was unlikely that Jareth's presence would disturb them.

Stepping easily over a goblin curled near the center of the room Jareth went to his window perch and summoned a morning dove.

Most of the advising council could be summoned from various places in the Labyrinth. The only exception was the White Huntress who was technically not a denizen of the Goblin Kingdom. Jareth would send word to Meriel.

Meriel almost never set foot in Jareth's domain, Mostly on principle.

She was an aloof creature and one of the few people Jareth treated with reserved respect and tolerance mostly because Meriel was just as formidable as he was and it was important that he maintain a working relationship with her. Removing a small note from his sleeve requesting her presence, Jareth gave the note to the morning dove and quietly requested that the animal be so kind as to deliver it to her. The dove seemed to have no problem with this and took off graciously into the sky.

Jareth smiled to himself just then, wishing he had time to do the same but his business was too pressing and he had no other option but to return to his throne room and wait for his guests to arrive.

As was expected, the White Huntress made her way to the castle first.

Swift and efficient as she ever was.

Being at least partially elven she had little need for extravagant transportation and by now word had gotten around that she would be making an appearance in the Goblin Kingdom. The knowledge was a source of awe and wonderment and the goblins did not meddle with her for she commanded a great deal of power that they were wise enough to not provoke.

Jareth felt her as far off as the Goblin City and waited for her with baited anticipation.

There was a fury about Meriel's will that Jareth found best not to antagonize and her time in the enchanted forest had made her feral by elven standards. She was a misfit, and an exception to the common accepted rules of their world: just like he was.

Meriel's entrance into the throne room was without fan fair.

She simply kicked open the door end walked in. A golden and silver long bow in one hand and a quiver upon her back of the same kind. The woman was impossibly pale. Her skin like beige porcelain, her eyes black reflective pools that shined but gave away no inflection other than alien awareness. Muriel was dressed in pale lavender and her short dress hung from her like enlarged soft flower petals woven into a single cloth. the softness greatly contracted her otherworldly appearance and animal like reflexes. Her hair was almost white and stood up from her head like a more demure bride of Frankenstein. Her feet were long boned and bare. Her small narrow fingers gave the illusion of length due to her long claw like nails that seemed as if they could rip through stone. Her face was obscured by a silver and gold mask and her equipment told the Goblin King that he had caught her while she was on the hunt.

Meriel approached Jareth's throne and at first stared at him without a word, almost, but not quite, defiantly. Then like water being poured from a basin she dropped into a curtsy so deep that it brought her practically to the floor before returning to a standing position.

A corner of Jareth's mouth twitched ever so slightly as he brought his fist to his lips pressing his lips to the side of his pointer finger.

If it wouldn't have been inappropriate at that moment he might have smiled at her.

Instead Jareth stood.

These days his hair style was different then when Sarah Williams had met him.

While he was no less beautiful his hair was darker and more human looking, falling almost at a curl at his shoulders and his hands were not gloved revealing long artistic narrow hands and fingers that were well worn. He was dressed in a blue coat. Similar to the one in the ballroom of Sarah's fantasy only less glittery. Tan breaches and high black boots accented him as well as a white poet shirt with an ornate ruffled front. Jareth stepped forward. His face just inches from the white huntress who was only somewhat shorter then he was. It was like watching two separate forces of nature stare each other down. Air element against earth.

Then Jareth did something entirely unexpected by the standards of anyone who only thought that thye knew him.

Jareth stepped forward and with great strength and compassion embraced the White huntress. Pulling her stiff form against him firmly as he pressed his cheek to hers and shut his eyes.

Meriel seemed to tolerate this display without reaction as she remained stiff as a board. Though after thirty seconds or so of staring straight ahead she eventually allowed her eyes to slip shut. The only indication of her acceptance of him.

Jareth released her promptly and stepped away moving to her side so that he could step down from the dais and walk around her to the center of the room.

"We have a very real problem." Jareth remarked as if nothing had happened but with an air of intimacy he reserved for almost no one else.

" The damned High Council is coming here." He proclaimed.

"I know."

Yes. Of course you do. You then have undoubtedly realized that you have your own problems too. Like the fact that the enchanted forest will likely become a receiving and departure point for the Ball's guests as will the black river that flows under the castle. I can secure the one if you will agree to secure the other. We should also think about emptying the forest to avoid any temptations."

"And will you do the same for the great maze?" The elf asked.

"No." Jareth remarked. "I will not conceal the people of the Labyrinth any more than I have to."

"Then your request of me is unreasonable as much as it is impractical." The White Huntress replied.

"Then tell me what is both reasonable and practical in this sense?" Jareth's sharp and cutting tone that he was so famous for had returned.

"Simple. Invite them to the ball as well. The people of the forest are humble. It will flatter them and and provide you with some extra insurance." Meriel pointed out.

"You mean extra spies. Yes, I'm sure you're right. There's another matter to think about of course. The High Council will expect your presence at the ball in spite of your poor standing with them." Jareth challenged.

"They may expect what they like. The High Council is not my keeper. I will do as I please and remain in my Forrest." Meriel remained stoically still while Jareth paced behind her.

"Please, Meriel. I'm asking as a favor to me that you be there." Jareth admitted flatly.

At this surprising request the White Huntress did turn on her heals to look at him.

"Are you really so concerned?" She inquired with genuine curiosity.

"Yes." Jareth replied. "You are the closest thing I have to an ally in this blasted business. I am asking you to unite with me on this one thing. Will you?"

The Magician and the Huntress stared each other down for what may have felt like a long time.

Finally Meriel stepped down from the dais as well and passed by him closely. "I will do as you ask. But as with all choices in our lives, I'm afraid it may come at a price."

"I'm willing to pay it if you are." Jareth promised.

"Then we are in agreement on the Bond Word of the Enchanted Forest." The White Huntress agreed.

"And the Bond Word of the Great Maze." Jareth also conceded.

"Well. Now that we are in agreement. How long do you think it will take for the others to arrive?" The question was meant as a private joke and this time Jareth did smile a sharp toothed grin at her after saying it.

"Not soon enough." She replied.

Will you come with me then?" He asked.

The White huntress bowed her head in agreement and took Jareth's offered arm. Both would know when the others arrive and for the moment there was time.

Precious precious time.

Jareth escorted Meriel deep into the castle's core.

Deeper then even the Goblin's preferred to go unless caught in their hibernating cycle. Few magical or mortal people had ever seen the deeper parts of the castle that connected out into the maze hiding cashes of treasure, and other forgotten secrets.

As much as there were many wonders and interesting places on the surface level of the maze, below the surface was an assortment of endless passages, oubliettes, treasuries, and gnome hovels. Most of these underground areas were not very deep nor did most of them connect to the castle. But the castle itself was a different story.

Besides the fact that Jareth had more or less turned the castle into a fun house of illusion, the truth was that much of his efforts were to mask the castle's true features which included the extensive catacombs and store rooms that existed deep bellow its surface as will as various enchanted rooms that had been present long before Jareth's time. But perhaps most importantly the castle's roots served as a dock point for the aqueducts and the dark waters that flowed deep beneath the surrounding yellow and red baked ground of the dessert lands that seemed to endlessly surround the Labyrinth and enchanted forest.

There had been a time long ago when the labyrinth was surrounded by a sea of salt water but at some point in the course of the natural shifts of the greater ecology of the Underground, the sea had eventually dried up leaving a distant wasteland of cracked and baked earth that had once been the water's floor. With the exception of the enchanted Forrest, which operated according to it's own unique magical rules, a big reason that the Labyrinth itself was so sparsely populated was because very few people (magical or otherwise) had the inclination or the wherewithal to bother crossing the wastelands and those that did end up settling in or near the labyrinth or the Goblin City had usually stumbled onto it because of the Enchanted Forrest or by other magical means.

Besides crossing the dessert or getting oneself entangled with magic there was one more less well known way for people to travel between several significant points across the baked dessert. It was a little known fact that the aqueducts that existed deep bellow the great castle were connected to a greater water system; one that spanned in various capacities across the Underground and well beyond the boundaries of the Labyrinth.

Beyond the aqueducts was a sacred place, placed at the heart of the castle. It was a place few remembered or realized was there and it was the primary reason Jareth ruled over the goblins and was the guardian of the city and the castle in the center of it. Meriel knew of it because the place held as much personal significance for her as it did Jareth, if for different reasons.

The catacombs were as one might have expected them to be.

Dark, dungeon like, and dry; despite being close to the black river. Neither Jareth or Meriel spoke to each other as they walked together swiftly and with purpose.

Jareth conjuring up a dim torch as they went. The catacombs were a maze in their own right and Meriel relied on Jareth's knowledge of their course as he guided them to the deep tomb at the catacomb's center. The air changed. Became more thick with buried power and reverence.

Meriel inhaled sharply, her head momentarily swimming with the intoxication of it.

Thankfully though Jareth held her firm and seemed to have a less aggressive reaction. The room opened into a circle where all other paths seemed to converge. In the center of the large space were two rectangular tombs with ornate and forgotten alters at each of their heads.

"No matter how many times you bring me here, I can feel nothing short of exultation." Meriel finally said quietly, though her voice carried and echoed.

"Anyone in their right mind, magical or not should feel that way in this place. This is the resting place of part of our oldest history. One of the oldest bridge points of history and shared magic between the worlds. It is what I am duty bound to protect with my life if necessary even if the task should have fallen to others. The world of Faerie has forgotten their place in the larger order of existence. This place, these women, are a reminder of the symbiotic necessity of our two worlds." Jareth remarked eloquently and with weighted strength and purpose.

Meriel and Jareth parted from each other stepping individually before their respective tombs. The Tomb of the Three Sisters. The final resting place of two of the three most important female figures of known lore.

Jareth lit one of the candelabra and passed the torch to Meriel to light her own before she placed the torch upon the wall and returned to her place.

Both then bowed in respect to their individual symbolic ancestors. Jareth leaned into the tomb and lowered his head to press his brow to the stone surface of Morgana Le Fey's tomb. The dark haired half sister of the doomed king of lore and the most powerful human woman ever to master the power of the first old magic that bound their worlds together.

Morgana had been mortal and yet also immortal, wicked yet also benevolent.

Her sister in magical spirit was one of the last to take a peaceful stance. It had been the Ladyof the Lake's sacrifice that had made it possible for the world of Faerie to coexist together but separately with the world of man. Not even her dark Sister Queen Mab could argue this truth. The Lady of the Lake had lived and died so that all others would remain. Her bloodline flowed in the veins of most of the magical species unique now only to the underground.

"My dark lady. I ask for your guidance and protection for I know not if I have the strength do what you would have me do. I am forever your servant, your champion, and knight. Do not abandon me in this hour I implore you." The prayer was uttered quietly against the stone and Jareth sealed it with a kiss.

Meriel uttered her own prayer. "Dear divine mother, protect and keep us always within your grace. You are the beginning and the end of us. May your sword of truth reflect out into the world and through hearts of all who come to this place, Let not the folly of magic nor man bring us back into a time of ruin and eternal darkness. Your daughter pours the water of her life at your feet. May I be blessed in your goodness always."

At that both stood and turned taking up a small silver cup from their individual alters, dipping the cups into the gurgling small fountains on either side of the wall as they walked to the head of the tombs and faced each other in the space between.

"May my water mingle with your water." Jareth said solemnly.

"And may the fibers of our destinies be ever entwined." Meriel finished.

After, they both poured their cups out onto the ground forming a single stream.

After the ritual was done Jareth took the torch back up and offered his arm once more.

"Do you think they heard us?" Meriel asked with the air of a child.

"If they didn't there will be hell to pay." Jareth remarked grimly.

While Meriel and Jareth where visiting the tombs two of Jareth's goblin servants were unintentionally causing mischief in another part of the castle. Nagol stood perfectly still as Trizz fluttered before him as he adjusted his companion's raggedy tie. With the Centennial Ball rapidly approaching, the duo wanted to look sharp as they flagrantly abused their power over the upcoming visitors. Despite the fact that they weren't supposed to know about the upcoming ball yet, the two goblins had overheard Jareth speaking with Meriel and conveniently ignored the more important parts of the conversation, noting only that a ball was to occur and that they were to host.

"I dunno, Trizz. Still looks a lil crooked to me."

The little blue winged creature gave a sharp bite to Nagol's, long, pointed nose.

"It's yer face that's crooked, Nag! Now hold still."

He slid a boutineer of withered carnations through one of Nagol's button holes.

"There, now fix mine."

Nagol tied a pair of silver ribbons to Trizz's horns. The two gave each other a nod and Trizz took his perch on top of Nagol's head. They were two of the Goblin King's finest servants, but like most of their kind, they were prone to some unsavory behavior. They were notorious for pulling pranks on the elite guard and they could be found harassing the creatures of the Enchanted Forest.

However, today was different. They temporarily halted any trouble-stirring plans to make sure that the city was in good order. They walked the streets, passing by bustling activity. Goblins of all kinds could be seen hanging banners and streamers from windows and rooftops. The littered streets were swept clean, and even flowers adorned houses and businesses. The goblins knew how important this celebration was going to be, and they wanted to prove they too were capable of creating beauty outside of their king's illusions.

Pleased with the progress of downtown, the pair carried on to the castle to oversee the decorations in the great hall. They passed through a great stone wall, and walked uphill to a set a tremendous oak doors. Sentries on either side granted them entrance. As they stepped inside, Nagol gasped at the destruction. Dustly fabrics lay strewn all around the room. Goblets laid turned over, staining the stones with last night's wine.

"HAVE THOSE BUFFOONS DONE NOTHING?!" shrieked Trizz before taking off and soaring down the halls. He shouted a maddening alarm that finally stirred the still sleeping. A slew of goblins, still bleary eyed and fumbling, got to their feet and poured into the room. Nagol whipped off his cap and proceeded to smack around the other servants.

"The king will have our heads if this place isn't PRISTINE when he gets here!" said Na

gol "Dit, take care of those streamers, Gollager, you and Plum take care of the banner. Where is Drull? DRULL! Yes, you get a crew and start cleaning this mess up."

As higher servants, Nagol and Trizz had been granted with a little mild magical ability. Trizz waved a slender hand across the room and the surrounding candles flickered into life and cast a warm, golden glow. Nagol helped levitate a wide ring tied with rows of long streamers. He then frantically bustled around barking orders every time he saw something that needed attention. He prayed that the king was too busy with his own affairs to take a peek at his minions as they scurried to avoid a cataclysmic disaster. The king had been a great leader, but he never tolerated mistakes, especially ones that would negatively affect his image.

Jareth loved his goblin, he really did.

Having been among the species so directly for so long it was hard not to like them.

In truth many of the goblins were of quite high intelligence and even the stupid ones had the ability to learn and grow with enough patience and direction. If there was one thing goblins loved above all else it was a party and although Jareth had only gotten word of the ball that morning of course some of his more observant subjects had likely overheard his conversation with Mim and probably ignored the more threatening nuances of their conversation.

when Jareth and Meriel emerged from the castles bowels and walked back into the throne room which also served as the great hall both he and Meriel paused in surprised to find the room swarming with panicked goblins all frantically trying to decorate and doing a fair good if chaotic job of it.

Meriel glanced swiftly from the display to Jareth and on instinct took a healthy side step away from him. Quite expecting the Goblin King to explode with rage which would not have been such a far fetched possibility.

To be sure Jareth was silent for several seconds, a vein near one eye twitching ever so slightly.

Then the Goblin King did something entirely unexpected by everyone involved including the Goblins who were so busy they hadn't noticed him.

Jareth began to laugh.

Loud and booming and albeit a bit menacingly for those familiar with his potential. in fact Jareth was laughing so hard that he hobbled over to his throne and fell into it until he could get his composure.

when he did speak it was to be sure in a tone and volume that the entire room could hear and while it was firm and commanding it was not particularly malicious. "What in all the worlds do you all think your doing?"

Every word was enunciated but there was amusement in his tone. No doubt the goblins wouldn't catch the mood entirely and worry he was angry with them despite the slight smile on his face which in fairness was not always a good thing where the goblin king was concerned.

The King's laughing sent a chill down Nagol's spine. Trizz perched on the back of a chair and stood at attention. The discomfort washed over the whole room as goblins dropped their brooms and tools and clumsily bowed.

Nagol nervously twisted his cap in his hands as he shuffled towards Jareth. The creature resembled a dog preparing to get scolded as he looked up at his imposing figure. Although not the brightest of the bunch, Nagol possessed an integrity and sense of honor many other goblins hailed. When his staff fell short of the king's expectations, he was always the first to come forward and provide an ear to cuff or a nose to twist.

"P-pardon, Yer Majesty. You see, well Trizz and I were monitorin' the outside, and well...oh, it's my fault. I didn't get the staff together this morning to prepare the great hall.

With that, Trizz took off from the chair.

"Untrue, sire!" He cawed in a shrill voice "We told this squadron of warts every day for the past week that we expected the great hall to be spotless and decorated by this afternoon."

Though Nagol performed like a proper leader, Trizz was always there to prevent any unnecessary beatings from raining upon his partner's head.

"Decorated for what?" Jareth demanded. His good humor quickly dissipating.

Fear was an important element in how Jareth handled the goblins because he knew that like with children the fear of potential consequence carried more weight then the consequence itself.

"I haven't given any orders like that. Just what's going on around here all of sudden? Everyone ELSE seems to know what's going on except me. Who or what are you decorating for?" Jareth pressed them.

The sharp edge in his tone showed his patience was limited.

Nagol's ears drooped and his lower lip began to tremble. His knuckles turned white as he gripped his cap tighter.

"Th-The Ball, sir" he stammered "I uh, thought I heard that you were to host the Centennial Ball this year. You seemed a bit unhappy with the state of the place. You beat Pring about it I think. I know you hate those hoity faerie stiff-necked snobs. We just wanted it to look nice so...you know..." His voice grew quiter and he spoke hurriedly "youwouldn'tbeteasedaboutitthistime."

He winced, prepared to get an ear boxed.

"Maybe he doesn't like the decorations" he heard another goblin mutter.

"OH! Well, if you don't like the look of things, we'll take it all down this very second! CREW! Start tearing those streamers, get that ghastly banner down from there. This is a disaster"

"A DISTASTER" Trizz echoed as he soared around the hall.

"No no no. Leave everything ad it is. As I look at it now I suppose the hall needed a facelift. But there are to be no further alterations regarding the ball without my or the Goblin Knight's specific word. Do I make myself perfectly clear?" Jareth waited for the goblin's confirmation. "Now everyone get out, and you Nogal and Trizz, I want you to track down our wretched dwarf groundskeeper and bring him here as soon as possible. I don't have all day to waste!"

Jareth barked at the whole lot of them.

Nagol slipped his cap back on and bowed low enough for his nose to graze the floor. He grasped the hem of the king's coat and pressed it to his forehead.

"Yes, of course, Yer Majesty. Right away. Thank you. No more decoratin' less you tell us. Get the dwarf. Trizz! Time to move out!"

Trizz too took a moment to pay his respects to his king, flattening his tiny body into a pose of groveling.

"We're your humblest of servants, sire."

With that, he took to the air, grabbing Nagol by the shoulders with his claw-like hands. He hardly looked capable of carrying his much larger companion, but the two of them managed to get airborne though not without a struggle. They bumbled through the air with Trizz frantically flapping his wings causing a somewhat nervous Nagol to bounce and sway, narrowly missing the door frame as they flew out into the courtyard, over the castle, and into the city.

The rest of the crowd scrambled to take their own bows before dispersing, some creeping back into their beds to finish sleeping off the effects of the previous night's escapades and others moving off to places unknown.

"You have an impressive way with the Goblins." Meriel noted approvingly. "If you have other things to attend to, I can wait for the others to arrive and alert you when we are all assembled."

"Goblins are not the easiest creatures to work with, Meriel. But they do have their charms. I suppose that is your cue to have me take my private counsel." Jareth muttered knowing the elf was sometimes far more perceptive than she let on.

"As your Majesty likes." This was what passed for humor with Meriel.

"I shall return promptly." Jareth nodded. "I thank you for your friendship in this business, Meriel. May your faith in me prove warranted."

At that Jareth took the form the barn owl and made a swooping exit out the high window from which he had originally come earlier that morning.

One of the secrets of the Labyrinth was that it had a personality of its own. Although Jareth was the custodian of the Labyrinth and could entice it to bend to his will, he was not actually the thing that was at the heart of the great maze.

That role belonged to Xayide.

Jareth's mother.

To find her, Jareth needed to venture into the Arid Flats. A dangerous part of the Labyrinth even for him. The Arid Flats were home to the shrewd and knifing Junk People. Wild goblins who endlessly horded and pilfered their glorious pretties. The Arid Flats had a nasty effect on those who lingered in it over long. Forgetfulness was the coin of the realm in this part of the Labyrinth. Naturally this was Xayide's preferred home and the epicenter of her personal domain.

Still in the form of the barn owl, Jareth landed near one of the largest heaps until he located a small entry point the lead into the rubbish. Screeching once, the owl adjusted its wings and after a moment disappeared inside the mass.

Like most of the heaps the core of the pile was hallow and no doubt draped in illusion.

The inside of the pile looked like a thorny bramble bush and if one wasn't careful there was a risk that cloths, hair, and flesh could be snagged. Changing into his regular form only this time dressed in a light weight version of his black goblin armor, Jareth worked his way carefully to the center of the space.

"Who disturbs me in my domain?" A throaty woman's voice demanded almost sullenly.

"I do, Xayide. I must speak with you. It's important." Jareth's voice was low and his tone almost growly.

In a flamboyant flash that sounded like a circuit breaker exploding a tall woman suddenly appeared in a sweeping red sequined gown. One eye was rimmed in red the other in green.

"What do you want here?" The look on Xayide's face was both wounded and empty. As if her soul was forever forlorn.

Jareth wasn't completely sure Xayide even consciously recognized him, a possibility that he didn't take personally under the circumstances for which the sorceress lived.

"The High Faerie court is coming to judge me. They are masking their intentions, but judgment is the clear truth of their purposes in coming here. If they rule against me I don't know what could happen." Jareth said flatly.

Xayide neared Jareth in her regal way slowly, eventually she reached out to stroke his cheek with the back of her fingers. "You remind me of someone."

Jareth remained still as he allowed a wave of familial nostalgia to seep into him. In spite of all her faults, Xayide was his mother. What she did not remember, Jareth was capable of remembering on her behalf. Jareth took her hand away and held it as he kneeled at the sorceress's feet wrapping his free arm around her calves as he pressed his cheek to the outline of her knee.

"Please, mother. I'm afraid." He admitted hastily.

"Why?" Xayide asked flately as id she too was afraid yet could not place the feeling fully.

"I am not like the rest of the creatures of this world. Does no one think I have wishes of my own? Is it any wonder that I might resent my own limitations sometimes? The High Council thinks they can pass judgement over me. But is my lack of belief not justified? The High Council could imprison me. They could interject in the workings of the Goblin Kingdom. I don't think I could forgive myself if I left you all so exposed and alone." Jareth spoke with deep worry and sentimentality.

For a moment the feeling in the room shifted as if the air pressure had drastically risen.

Suddenly Xayide was sitting and Jareth was still at her knee.

"Jareth, it was not your failure that cost the High Council their prize. You are guilty of nothing more than getting caught up in your own dreams. What is a wish if not a dream spoken by the heart's desire?" Xayide's use of his name proved whatever forgetfulness that had clouded her before was now clearing.

"The boy child will achieve his destiny one way or another. His sister only prolonged the inevitable. At least with me he would have had a fighting chance. My mistake was overplaying my hand when I'd already lost. A mistake I don't intend to repeat again. If the High Council intends to trap be by my own admission, then let them try. Since I am not really one of them I am not bound by their often misguided authority. I jdon't want to hurt you, any of you; but especially you, mother. I can't allow the power of the Labyrinth to fall into even well intending hands." Jareth mused.

"Peace. I am as old as the night. Nothing has the power to contain me. Where darkness lies, emptiness rises. You will not be alone in this thing my beautiful child. Mother will take everything in hand." Xayide promised.

"What will you do?" Jareth asked, though he didn't expect a real reply.

"I will call in a favor." Xayide sad stroking his hair like she had done when he was a child.


	3. Enter, Jillian

“My God Jillian, you’ve got to be the oddest little girl I’ve ever had working for me. What am I going to do with you?” Mrs. Pervish said in a criticizing tone that came off somewhat garish when combined with her preening southern accent.

Julia Pervish was a middle aged divorcee who ran a small boutique for deserning  women and the men who wooed them. Most of her clients were upper middle class men trying to have affairs with their secretaries. Many weren’t really bad fellows despite their poor moral choices. By Jillian’s estimation most of the men seemed to be average enough joes who had gotten themselves caught up in the mystique of a midlife crisis. Many likely never ended up officially cheating on their wives and the few that did were also usually getting more than just gift wrapping advice from Julia. Jillian often liked to imagine the woman as the screwed head of some southern bordello out of one of the television westerns she sometimes caught while flipping through the channels of her sorely out of date TV. Jillian often liked to conjure up reimagined characterizations of the people she saw commonly around her. It was often more interesting then her actual interactions with them. 

“I’m sorry, Julia. I honestly didn’t realize Mr. Diangelo meant me to deliver the necklace he purchased to his wife instead of his...his...” For some reason Jillian’s brain was struggling to call the client’s intended something more professional sounding than what she was. “Personal assistant.”

”How many times have I told you that attention to detail is the key to your success in this industry. I’ll have you know that Mr. Diangelo nearly canceled his account with us today. Now Jillian, sugar plum, I just can afford for you to keep making such rookie mistakes.” Julia scolded as she gently wiggled the bottom of Jillian’s chin.

Jilian froze in place while Julia inappropriately touched her as her hand clenched, uncleched, and clenched again at her sides. “Please don’t touch me like that, Julia. It...makes me uncomfortable. I’m really sorry about the mistake.”

Julia examined Jillian’s expression, noting the way the girl’s large wide eyes had become fixed as if she was looking right through the woman like she wasn’t there. Jillian’s Eyes were beginning to well with tears that had yet to fall. As if recognizing something ominous in those pooling dark eyes, Julia abruptly dropped her hand away and turned her back on her twentish shop assistant.

”Well. don’t let it happen again or next time I’m afraid I’m going to have to fire you. Now get outta here. Your taking the rest of the day off to think about how your going to make things up to Mr. Diangelo and his wife.” julia’s Tone had softened though it would never be truly gentle. There was just the slightest hint of sad pity in her choice of phrasing.

Jillian didn’t say anything, she just swiftly dashed her hands at her eyes, turned tail, and fled the shop as quickly and quietly as she could. Had she stayed any longer she would have found herself in the throws of a full on breakdown.

”D-damn it!” She cursed as she stormed down the Main Street of Boston’s kitschy shopping district looking like distraught and otherworldly with her doll like features that was framed with a angular pixie cut. Though she never wore makeup, her overly large eyes and generous dark lashes always made it seem like she was wearing eyeliner. Her skin was flawless and impossibly pale which added to her impish appearance along with her small build that so commonly made her look childlike.

Desperate to avoid one of her anxiety laced meltdowns, Jillian ducked down a side street that no one else seemed to be walking along not bother to see which one it was and made a b-line for the nearest bench she saw.

After practingling flinging herself into it, Jillian tucked her hand purse between her knee and permitted herself three muffled sobs into her hands which she pressed hard against her face before she willed herself into silence by cupping her hands firmly over her mouth until the urge to endlessly scream from the bottom of her soul passed. Eventually she allowed her hands to fall away as the nessecity of breathing caused her to exhale all the breath she’d been holding sharply as she slowly felt her sanity returning. Julia had set her off she’d crossed the line by grabbing Jillian by the face. A tactic her foster parents, particularly the woman had used whenever Jillian had tried to resist them during her punishments. Julia must have realized she’d made a mistake of some kind in touching her otherwise she would have simply sent her back to work. A shrewd woman indeed.

Angry with herself for losing control, Jillian wiped viciously at her face before she went about something out her white ruffled short sleeve blouse and pinstripe pencil skirt. “Goddamn it. Get ahold of, Jilly. You’re not a little girl anymore. You’re all right. It’s all all right.”

Jillian took a long time to soothe herself. Long enough for her face to air dry and the red splotches on her skin to cool and fade. Eventually she took a small compact mirror out of her handbag and adjusted her air and blouse ruffled until she looked like just another well to do young professional woman milling about on her lunch break.

”Good girl. You’re a good girl, Jilly-bee.” She repeated to herself subconsciously under her breath as she patted herself on the thigh with one hand and itched hens her ankle with the other. “Well, at least I have the rest of the day off.”

in all likelihood Julia would likely pay her as if she’d worked the whole day and in spite of her threats Jillian doubted the woman would follow through with firing her. At least not over delivery related mistakes. Julia often talked a hard game but often times when there were detail related mistakes they were due toJulia herself making calculated mischief for her clients. The woman had a nose for the intracicies of the human heart. Had she indeed been a madam in another life she likely would have been a figure of legendary esteem.

Despite all the trouble that morning, Mr. Deangilo hadn’t failed to give her her usual tip of one hundred dollars. Though the man hand never made further advances on her, Jillian was wise enough to know the tips were his way of showing his appreciation for her other desirable qualities. Her wide eyed child like and other worldly beauty coupled by the air of fragile innocence and mystery she possessed was the primary reason Julia Pervish had hired her. Luckily for everyone involved, Julia maintained a strict no fraternization policy between her clients and employees and stuck to it with admirable ferocity save form those she herself chose to tangle with. She was also a fair business owner who could afford to pay her employees a reasonable by her standards wage that included a enormously generous holiday bonus if her girls preformed well. Currently Jillian was her only employee. An arraignment that suited both women very well. On Julia’s part it meant less competition and more control. For Jillian it meant she rarely had to deal with customers directly and she could work in almost complete solitude. 

All in all, Jillian was happy enough and had enough. Or so she often reminded herself when the emptiness she felt threatened to become deafening. Today was proving to be a wretched experience that would linger endlessly if she didn’t do something proactive to lift her gloom. 

“Ugh. I need coffee and maybe a lobotomy.” She muttered, only half joking with herself.

Eventually Jillian did pick herself up and wander into the nearest independent coffee shopwhere se sat at played on her phone until the exstra large coffee drink of dark chocolate and espresso was gone. Bitter and sweet. Just like her life. Over all the coffee did much to soothe her nerves though it didn’t quiet reach the depths of the pit that had opened up in the center of her stomach. There was only one remaining solution. Jillian needed to relax her usually frugal attitudes and do some shopping therapy. Nothing extravagant. A new journal, maybe. Or a interesting trinket perhaps. Yes, a little pretty to brighten up her life was just the thing she needed to find the nerve to go home for the day.

Tossing away her empty cup and slipping her smart phone that she barely knew how to use into her handbag, Jillian retreated from the cafe realizing only when she finally stepped outside that she didn’t know exactly where she was. None of the shops on this side street looked familiar and there was almost no one else about except for the cassional bike enthusiast or solitary dog walker. Not overly concerned, Jillian decided to walk and window shop until she found herself back on a Main Street. Most of the shops on her side of the street were kitschy second hand stores.  There was a hippy dippy looking consignment shop that Jillian might have gone into had it not had a “out of shop” sign on the door and there was also a tidy little paperback bookshop, a jewelers, and a tailors shop. Jillian lingered awhile in front of the jeweler’s as she admired the many pretty bobbled but ultimately moved on. Near the end of the street was a small out of the way shop with a large glass window. Of anything on the street it was the easiest to miss since the display window was overly cluttered with mismatched second hand goods and draped shimmery fabrics. There was a strong air of whimsy and something else Jillian couldn’t place.  As she looked over the windows smaller contents of flamboyant jewelry, oddly shaped colored glass bottles, and collectibles, Jillian’s eyes settled upon the windows centerpiece. 

“Wow. I wonder if that’s really made of crystal or if it just glass.” Jillian remarked resting her palm against the window as here eyes locked on a simple crystal orb with a sign next to it that read “Best offer”. There were a few other average crystals and stones scattered around the pillow it was sitting on, and ther was a faced out worn tarot deck in front of it. Jillian ignored the other elements though as her gaze was focused completely on the orb.

Meanwhile, inside the treacherously devious Mim could sense that someone was eyeing her bait. Well well, that WAS quick. She thought with languid saticfaftion.

It wasn't even three o clock and Mim already had her first good candidate. The dark haired girl currently standing in front of her shop practically seemed out of time and space and Mim could detect a heightened kind of imaginative thinking that made her finger tips twitch with anticipation.

"Good day." Mim drawled as she took her sweet time drawing the young woman’s attention as she appeared as if by magic in the arch of the doorway leading into her shop. "That crystal there is something quite special. While there are of course imitators out there, other crystals of similar appearance, I guarantee you'll never find one in this world quiet like it. It was a...Contribution, from a private owner. Quite the magician I'm told. They say that if you take it and turn it just so in your hand the crystal will show you wondrous things. Things quite beyond ones imagination. As for the seller, that would be me. Madam Mim, at your service."

Jillian found it hard to look away from the strange orb, but eventually turned her face to look up at the woman speaking to her left.

”It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen one so clear that wasn’t made of glass.”

"It’s the real thing, I assure you.” Mom said demurely as she took one step of the stoop too study Jillian more closely without actually getting too close to her. “My you are a pretty thing. What do you think about fortune telling? Naturally such a young pretty thing such as yourself wouldn’t mind a glimpse. A peak at what could be? All the best things in the world, as they say, are at your fingertips. Or, at least, it should be. As it happens I do give readings, free of charge for first time visitors. If that is, you have the time."

“I’m sorry.”Jillian said dismissively. “I don’t believe in fortune telling.”

"The reading is free, as I said. Why don’t You do me a kindness and humor me anyway. I haven’t had a patron all day and I just put on a pot of tea. One cup, one question, one card. What do you say?” Mim asked emploringly.

Jillian stared blankly up at her and eventually sighed and agreed to come inside. “I really don’t believe in this stuff but I do like taking tea.”

“You are a lamb.” Mim tunered about in a flash and disappeared inside expecting Jillian to follow her. Walking behind her counter she produced two clear glass mugs and poured out a complimentary cup for each of them. When Jillian was finally inside  and standing in front of the counter, Mim passed over the mug. “Raspberry and cloves. My personal blend.”

Mim then produced a worn tarot deck from somewhere behind her counter and in one gracious swipe that rivaled a Las Vegas card dealer, Mim fanned the deck in a long line out along the glass counter. "Pick and all will be revealed."

This was silly, Jillian thought as she lightly shook her head bemused by her own self indulgence.

She moved her hand back and fourth over the smooth line of cards and drew passing the card unseen to Mim.

Mim plucked it out of her fingers and placed it face up on the counter. The card depicted a ghoulish looking mask with a pair of long spiraling horns and a handle with a bony claw grasping one side of it. The card revealed more then Jillian could possibly imagine. How fascinating. Looking from the card to Jillian, Mim studied the younger woman with a screwed and critical eye. There certainly was something interesting about Jillian. Mim could detect something in her destiny line that piqued Her interest greatly. Not many humans anymore were gifted with a predisposition for encountering real magic. Most had lost the will to believe long ago and over the centuries the connection between the human world and the world of Faerie dwindled. Mim's kind had a magical obligation to attend to the human world. Perhaps because there was a symbiotic relationship between them, but it was getting harder and harder for creatures like herself to do their jobs.

This girl was different though. Mim could tell she was a rare kind of exception to the common. Well that was indeed an interesting point. Mim also detected a magical trace on the girl's person. She was under someone's protection. Mim could feel the magical influence butting up against her own. But it was less of a persona and more of a thing, like a charm. Such things were usually in the form of an object. If Jillian was indeed being protected by someone else's magic that made Mim want to know the girl and how she'd come into such protections.

"Well, well, well. Look at that. Death. Life as you know it is coming to an end, my dear. You should be delighted. Nothing does more for a young woman's constitution than getting the chance to transform into something completely different than you once were. Congratulations." Mim sounded genuinely delighted and utterly serious.

”Well that sounds ominous.” Jillian remarked.

”The cards never lie.” Mim insisted. “You wait and see, trust me when I say Iknow a thing or two about these things from first hand experience.”

The two stood in silence several minutes sipping their tea which was very good. So good in fact that Jillian couldn’t recall every having any that was better. The pleasing taste and warmth from the liquid did much to smooth her frayed nerves and soften her earlier upset. Not wanting to be completely rude Jillian, in her now happy mood, ventured to make conversation.

"By the way...just out of simple curiosity...whats the asking price of that crystal ball that’s sitting in the window?" Jillian was asking out of pure idle curiosity. She absolutely had no intention of buying it.

Mim pretended like she was trying to remember but inside she was gleeful with triumph. Jillian may have convinced herself that she had no time for magic and mystery in her world, but Mim knew better. Deep inside Jillian was a child who believed in all imaginable things. It was that deep rooted connection too all things fantastical that had drawn her into Mim’s fold. All she had to do now was dangle the slightest lure and her mischief would be made.

"You know, that thing has been in my window for so long at this point anything would be a profit. Tell you what, just for some extra good luck since your life is seemingly about to take such an interesting turn, I think I could part with it for a solid twenty. No tax, my treat." Mim said sweetly with just a hint of shrewdness for good measure.

Ah the game was almost afoot.

In spite of herself, Jillian’s mind drifted to the hundred dollar bill she’d apologetically made the cafe cashier break for her. The trinket was awefully pretty and if it was indeed real crystal a solid twenty was well below what it would have actually been worth. Somethings never depreciated in value but Jillian wasn’t quite sold.

Picking up on her hesitation, Mim practically floated around the counter and passed jillian on her way to the display plucking the crystal up before presenting it to the girl. “Why don’t you see how it feels in your hands. It’s really best with crystals that you touch them. I promise once you do you’ll know if it’s meant for you to have it.”

Humoring her, Jillian took the crystal from her and casually rolled it along her hand flipping it in such a way that it rolled easily first along the front of her palm and then along the back.

“Heh. A party trick I learned as a kid.” Jillian remarked self consciously when she saw the impressed look on Mim’s face.

Jillian rolled it back and forth a few more times before she lost control and swiftly recover it in her hand balancing int on the tips of her fingers to look at its center one more time. This time though when she looked the crystal slowly changed in its appearance as a milky cloudiness began to form inside like a growling white storm. Jillian gasped and nearly dropped it. Blinking serveral times in disbelief. When she gave it a good solid look again the crystal was clear once more.

”Whoa...Did you see that?” she asked looking at Mim in mild alarm.

But you clearly did. I did mention it has unusual properties under the right circumstances. “Are you sure you don’t want it.

A satisfied smirk was on Mim’s face.

Once Jillian agreed to take the crystal, Mim's work would be done. Although the sorceress didn't have the power to activate the crystal's magic she was convinced that Jillian did. Like all of Jareth's crystals the orb had the power to show people their secret dreams. It also had the power to fulfill them, and she did not doubt that the strange girl in front of her wanted her fantasies to be real more than anything. Possibly at the expense of her better sense.

Then again, wasn't that what the fools journey was about? Like all fools Jillian had a kind of protection about her that Mim hoped for the girl sake wouldn't let her down.

Only time would tell.

Mim waited for Jillian to say the right words before she spoke again.

”You said it was twenty. I suppose That’s more then fair. I guess I do want it after all. Call it a souvineer. Or a unrealized wish.” Jillian reached into her hand bag with her free hand and fished out one of the remaining twenties handing it to Mim who promptly took it from her and despoiled it into the old fashioned register with a loud bring as she shut the drawer.

“Oh. Speaking of wishes...Before I forget.” Mim swiftly came around the counter and took Jillian’s arm as she began to walk her out. “Aword of warning."

Mim paused for dramatic effect.

"Be careful what you wish for." Mim said slyly, meaning every word.

Jillian tucked the crystal into her handbag and turned just before the exit door to gently shake Mim’s hand.

"Well. Thank you very much, Madam Mim. I should be going. It’s been an experience."

With that, she turned towards the door and and pulled the handle and was momentarily blinded by the intense sunlight. Momentarily stunned, Jillian suddenly lost her bearings and her head suddenly swum as if she was about about to faint. Losing her balance, Jillian helped as she fell sidling scratching up her nylons and knees against wat felt like sandy hard packed and warm earth.

Forcing here eyes open, Jillian squinted against the full on sun realizing she was outside but not where she should have been. Alarmed, Jillian scrambled to her feet.

”What the actual fuck.”

Looking around frantically to her horror Jillian didn’t recognize where she was. It seemed like she had somehow landed herself on a sandy hill surrounded by barren sunbaked yellow earth and sparse scraggly dead looking plants. 

“Oh Christ, I’ve been drugged. This is a hallucination. Please be a hallucination.”

Fear gripped her like she hadn’t felt since she’d been a child. Jillian looked about her feet for anything familiar. Luckily she still had her purse. Why would she have her purse if she’d been kidnapped and dumped somewhere. Snatching it up Jian found it filled with all of her possessions except the crystal. Pulling her smart phone out of the mix, Jillian swiped it on only to find to her dismay that there was neither signal nor network available. Jillian promptly turned it off to conserve its battery life. She hand to keep calm and look for help.

Seeing only endless desert in front of her, Jillian spun around only to gasp in shock at what she saw. From her place on the top of the sandy hill dotted in short, scrubby bushes, she could see a great maze made of ancient brick walls in the distance. At the center sat a fortress-like castle with tall buttress towers built on top of a steep, rocky mountain jutting before a sepia-colored sky. Her jaw dropped. 

Surely Jillian had finally lost her mind once and for all.


	4. In the Presence of the King

Mim? Are you there? Is this a joke?" It sounded stupid even to her own ears and yet Jillian couldn’t help but meekly try. On the off chance this was some reaction to something in her tea it was possible that maybe Mim could hear her somehow. To her increasing terror there was no response. There was only the sound of far off birds and the wind blowing over the land.

”Somebody help me, please.” She whispered.

of course no one answered her and the longer she stood there the hotter she got until her fear began to dissolve into anger, confusion, and general discomfort. Not seeing much choice in the matter Jillian sniffled back her tears and snotty nose and willed herself to think logically. She needed to get out of the sun and find somewhere she could get help. The odd fastistical maze seemed like her only option and in spite of her fear Jillian forced herself to take a deep breath and head for the outer wall.

"Hello? Is anyone in there?” Jillian yelled once she reached the outer wall. To her dismay no one answered and Jillian, not knowing what else to do tried to find a shady place as her strife overwhelmed and she huddled in the shade of a near by pillar to loudly sob.

-@-

Hoggle was due for the castle any time now but he was impossibly behind in his chores and refused to go running off to Jareth's side until some of his more important duties were concluded. The lawn gnomes had been grumbling at him all week about how some of the hedge creatures were back talking them when they were trying to give certain areas a trim. Parts of the stone maze also needed some maintenance and Hoggle had spent most of his morning trying to dislodge a goblin who had gotten themselves stuck in a drainage pipe. Needless to say, he was beyond busy that morning and while he knew Jareth didn't expect everyone to show up at the drop of a hat he also knew better than to be one of the last to arrive. Hoggle was planning to head to the Goblin City shortly but he wanted to stop back at his hovel to drop off some of his equipment before he left. Making his way back towards the bluff side of the wall, the dwarf was suddenly distracted by the most obnoxious kind of sobing and nonsensical yelling from someone one the outside of one of the entrance gates.

"Cor, what now?" Hoggle muttered as he shook his over sized head and made for the entrance rushing towards it. "Gwah, let me through."

At Hoggle's insistence the doors unceremoniously swung open to admit the grounds keeper.

"Now now what’s all this about?" The Dwarf inquired before he really bothered looking at whoever it was that was making a scene.

At the rumbling sound of the gates opening the the fustrated voice of the stranger coming through it, Jillian slapped her hand over her mouth and fearfully peaked around the edge of the pillar The was presently hiding her huddled for. What she saw caused her hand to slowly drop from her gapping mouth. The person speaking was what appeared for lack of a better description to be a dwarf of a man with large exaggerated features. He was wearing a skull cap and poets shirt with a matching vest and trousers. A great gaggle of baubles hung at his side.

Quietly getting to her feet but being sure to remain fully hidden around the side of the pillar Jillian willed herself to have the nerve to look around the pillars edge once more. “H-hello? Could you help me?I need to get out of this...place.”

To his surprise Hoggle found himself faced with the one thing he couldn't have planned for that morning. After booming through the Labyrinth's entrance the Dwarf found himself looking at what appeared to be an entirely out of place human peaking out from behind one of the stone pillars. The girls eyes were, at least as far as he could tell, were huge and her hair was bobbed a raven. She seemed terrified of him but not without sone measure of intellect. Hoggle new she wasn't supposed to be standing there because if Jareth had brought her due to some enchantment the entire kingdom would have been instantly alerted that a magical bargain involving the Labyrinth had been struck. It wasn't something that happened every often. Maybe just once every hundred years or so and Jareth had already filled his Quota of human meddling when Sarah Williams had been brought into their fold years ago.

What the devil was this woman doing here? Hoggle's trade mark self preserving fear set in almost automatically. Something strange was going on and at the worst possible time too.

"First of all, I's don't know you, girl. So the polite thing ta do would be to make my acquaintance before yous go begging any favors. Secondly, if ya be wanting into the Labyrinth over there then you could just try knocking and asking to be let in like you would anys place else, Politeness goes a long ways around here. Though I really don't be recommended that you go in there if you s can help it." Hoggle rattled off with an air of mild indignity. “Come out from behind there. Ain’t nobody around here going to hurt you. You have my solemn word.”

Wiping the dirt from her cheek that had stuck because of her tears, Jillian stepped into the open looking disheveled and overly warm.

"What be your name, girl, and how did you happen to come by these parts? yous look like you don't belong here at all and don’t want to be here." Hoggle muttered trying to figure out what he was supposed to do with a lost half mad human who looked like everything right and good and gone from the world.

He wasn't about to give her more information about the maze than he had to until he knew some more of the details behind how she'd gotten where she was.

“My name is Jillian Andrews. Up until about twenty minutes ago I was standing in a consignment shop in Boston owned by a woman named Mim. She had to of drugged me or...something. All I know is one minute I’m buying a crystal orb in her shop and the next thing I know I’m...HERE. Wherever or whatever here is. I’m scared and confused and no offense but you’re freaking me the fuck out and I just want to go home or wake up or click my heels together, or get beamed back to my home planet. Do you think you could help me with ANY of that?” 

Pat the mentioning of the orb Jillian quickly scrounged for her purse to produce it but to her dismay it was gone. Of course it was.

Orb? Mim? Boston?!? These words were not words Hoggle wanted to hear and CERTAINLY not on the same rambling sentence.

"Grraw! That meddling witch! She's as bad as anything. So she's the one who be responsible for this. Great, just great." Hoggle muttered trying to decide between being angry or afraid and not being able to pick between the two. "I don't knows how she did it but she must'o gotten ahold of one of Jareth's crystals. Can't say that's ever happened before. And anyway it wouldn't just disappear. Not if it wern't offered to you specifically in exchange fer a wish and if you's got it from Mim you probably paid her in money for it. That means its probably...Ah! There. At yur feet." Hoggle pointed to it. "I'd advise you to take it and whatever you do hold onto it. Don't put it anywhere off your person. Gwah. Here put it in this thing and keep it on yous. I dont car where. As fer me I aint touching it."

Hoggle took a large silk pouch off his belt and handed it to her.

"Now. My name is Hoggle. And there aint no need to be afraid. What yous need to accept is that your not in Boston anymore or anywhere resembling your world as you know it. You’ve landed yourself in the Underground, basically its apart of the world of faerie to put it in terms you hopefully understand. Now just stay calm and let me think a second. If you didn't get here cause of that orb then Mim must oh transported you here herself. She's one o the few beings round here who can do that kind o thing which means as far as I know she be the only one who can get you back home again. I guess against my better judgement I should take yous to the castle with me and try to help you get everything all sorted out. We don’t normally get unwitting humans around here that didn’t knowledge agree to come outright, but now that you are here, I'll wager there's a purpose."

She thankfully took the pouch and scooted the ball inside it. She slid the item into her purse, catching herself tilting slightly at the unexpected weight.

“Thank you for being willing to help me. I don’t understand any of this but I appreciate what your saying. At the risk of sounding rude, what ARE you?” 

Hoggle scoffed. “I’ll have you know, I’m a dwarf. I help take care of the maze and the Labyrinth grounds. I’m a groundskeeper among other things and a citizen of the the Goblin Kingdom.”

~@~

Just as Jillian and Hoggle began their journey towards the castle beyond the goblin city, the goblins Nogel and Trizz were whizzing through the maze towards them.

"HALT ANY FURTHER PREPARATIONS. WAIT FOR ORDERS FROM THE KING!" Bellowed Nagol as they flew through the inhabited areas.

"DWARF! DWARF!" Trizz cawed, apparently hyper focused on the errand Jareth had sent them on.

They wove through the Labyrinth's walls.

"That dwarf is prolly at the entrance as usual." said Nagol.

It took some effort for Trizz to carry his friend high enough to get a good view. In the distance, they saw the entrance's gates sitting wide open.

"Guests already?" Said Trizz with a hint of irritation when he noticed Hoggle was walking with someone unfamilar. "Don't these fools know to get to the castle from the forest?"

As they got closer they could see one figure standing next to the king's dwarf servant. The creature looked rather unusual for a faerie, but the underground possessed a wealth of different beings. It wouldn't be unusual of them to see a new species. Trizz honed in on the dwarf, barreling down towards him. Nagol panicked and began to flail.

"Oi! Slow 'er down, you blasted pigeon!"

"Quit movin' and maybe I won't drop you! DWARF!"

"DWARF! By order of the king, we command you to halt!"

The goblins landed heavily, causing Nagol to stumble before falling over and crashing at Joby's feet. Free of the extra weight, Trizz hovered face to face with Hoggle, glaring at him with a pair of beady black eyes.

"There you are, Heckle. The king wishes to speak to you right now."

Nagol got to his feet, grumbling as he dusted himself. He wore a tight-lipped frown as he studied the new visitor. She certainly wasn't dressed for a ball. The creature looked nearly as messy as his own kind, but she possessed a similar height and frame as his king.

"Is that a human?" he said just above a whisper. "Explain yourself dwarf before I have Trizz escort you to the Bog of Eternal Stench personally!"

"Gwah, don't you go yelling at me! And the NAME is HOGGLE. Anyway I don't know what this girl is doing here anymore than you two do and I don't be needing anymore trouble ta'day. I was just on my ways the castle, thank you very much; and anyway you two bird brians couldn't force me to do nothing if yer life depended on it. If His Majesty was that anxious te see me he would come himself and not bother sending the likes o' you two to fetch me. Now everyone just shush up and lets all get organized. His Majesty clearly aint going to be happy about her being here. He don't like unexpected guests, besides humans popping in and out o' his domain. But I can't very well leave her here either, now cans I? So why don't we all just go to the castle and sort out all this nonsense there." Hoggle encouraged with some amount of strength as he waved the whole lot of them towards what appeared to be a solid wall, uninteresting in hearing any more arguments from anyone.

"Now everyone just stay with me and we should get there fast enough." Hoggle demanded. "Sorry fear being so forceful Jillian, better take my arm. The Labyrinth can be tricky sometimes. Whatever you do walks straights ahead and don't stop till I do no matter how badly you think yous should. Got that?"

Technically Hoggle was about to reveal one of the many secrets of the maze and at the moment he didn't really care if it was wise to do so or not, all he knew is that he wanted to get to the castle as soon as possible and a part of him was starting to get a strange kind of sinking feeling. Like a storm was about to break somewhere.

Trizz scowled at the arrogant dwarf. "We were told to bring you to the castle as soon as possible and we're gonna make sure that's gonna happen" he said. Nagol still eyed the human with suspicion and anxiousness. Hoggle was right. The king wouldn't be thrilled. No goblin was safe from a rampage caused by an unexpected visitor, especially a human one. He wasn't too thrilled about the prospect of being present when he saw her. But the goblin saw no other way around it so he took a deep breath an nodded.

"Fair call, Dwarf. Lead the way," he said.

Trizz on the other hand grew more and more irritated at the servant's demands.

"You aren't the boss of us," he snapped as he fluttered further ahead.

“Shut your trap and MOVE.” Hoggle ordered.

Technically, Hoggle out ranked most of the Goblins and intellectual beasts that served the Goblin King. Not only was he a member of the the advising Labyrinth council and a ranked member of the knighthood, but Hoggle also had a royal title and position that came with a unique amount of privilege and responsibility. He was for all intents and purposes the primary Keeper of the Grounds. A position that should have afforded him much respect and consideration. However, the Goblin's tended, like children, to take their cues from Jareth and since the Goblin King rarely seemed to bestow even the basic level of honor on the dwarf most of the more active and self aware goblins tended to follow their master's example. Hoggle also seemed uninterested in asking for any common courtesy with the exception of his name, which only seemed to agitate the problem. Although in some circles his heroics during the Quest of Sarah had garnered him some amount of acclaim. Never mind that such attention and recognition seemed to embarrass and vex the man considerably.

Hoggle got no respect because he asked for none and expected very little from anyone. He generally preferred to see himself as unimportant and often leaned on his many faults for a strange kind of internal support. In many ways it was far more desirable to be seen as a coward than a champion, though the truth was that Hoggle had always been equal parts of both.

As it happened when Jillian walked into what she thought was a wall, she seemingly passed directly through it along with the rest of them.

Knowing this would likely cause the woman to falter, Hoggle was sure to catch her by the purse clutched in her hand with a vice grip and tug her forward lest she get away from them. If she did, Hoggle had no intention of wasting time trying to find and redirect her again. He was deeply eager to get to the castle as soon as possible and even going the short cut directly through to the center it would still take a good twenty minutes on foot. The dwarf was worried as much as the goblins were. Hoggle couldn't remember a time in recent history where a human just popped in from the above world. Although Sarah Williams had been human she had explicitly activated a magical element and specifically wished her brother away. The fact that Jareth had brought her to the underground had been a separate but related matter.

He wasnt sure what Jareth would do under the present circumstances and almost any reaction was possible.

In preparation for the other Council members arrival Jareth had magiced up a large round table in the throne room and was presently making low conversation with Meriel about her role in the upcoming events. Because he was not sitting upon his throne Jareth almost seemed like just another royal consultant and he might have been mistaken as such since Jareth did not bother with the typical royal regalia like a crown. If anything the horned amulet he wore was the only indication of his authority and even then it was hard to know if the object had any significant meaning or not.

The Hall was left mostly decorated and really the goblins had done an impressive job even if the business was largely unnecessary. Jareth marked their effort and made a mental note to reward them later for it.

Since Hoggle's party was being escorted by more than one goblin the guards were more quick to wave them along though the dwarf hesitated somewhat when they approached the doors leading into the hall.

Hoggle was afraid, afraid of why he was being summoned if not afraid of Jareth himself. "O'gawd. Best gaurd yourselfs. I got a feeling this aint going to be pleasant."

After about a minute Hoggle finally screwed up his confidence and with an audible gulp pushed his way through the doors letting his goblin companions hold them for Jillian, who had followed along on their journey silently all the way into the castle, since he knew they would prefer to keep a healthy distance between themselves and the dwarf.

Hoggle didn't anounce himself he simple walked cautiously forward in a shuffling manner slipping off his skull cap to hold in his hands.

Jareth was standing half hunched over the table which also served as a large moving map of the Labyrinth and surrounding lands as he quietly pointed out spots of interest making comments about this and that as Meriel nodded and pointed out others.

At first Hoggle wasn't sure if Jareth realized he was even there. A silly notion considering Jareth knew on instinct who was in the castle at any given time. Hoggle was about to clear his throat when Jareth addressed him without looking up.

"Ah Hoggle. So glad you could finally join us. Please have a seat." Jareth said.

Now there were a few significant points that Hoggle noticed with some mild surprise. For one Jareth almost never called him by his proper name and for another there was no malice or mockery in the Goblin King's inflection and tone. Instead his greeting and request were genuinely respectful and although Hoggle knew the logical reason behind this he was so used to Jareth insulting and mistreating him that this rare level of respect almost felt inappropriate to the dwarf who felt mightily more comfortable when Jareth was being nasty to him.

"I'm sorry to pull you away from your duties in the maze but it couldn't be helped. I've called you hear under the specific faculty of advisement." Jareth said seriously and directly glancing slowly in Hoggle's direction with almost improbable humility and tact.

When Jareth caught the look on the dwarf's face however, his face fell into a deep frown. "Dear god, what?"

"Guhm, nuthin." Hoggle muttered in a brief display of cowardliness.

"Don't play with me Hogbr-" Jareth intrupted himself and corrected obviously trying to maintain a measure of decorum that wasn't natural to either of them. "I mean, Hoggle. Please if there is something wrong, tell me what it is. I have had more than enough bad news and you adding onto it isn't going to diminish it."

"Well...Um..." Hoggle began sweating under the pressure of telling Jareth their new problem. He'd never quite been in such a position.

Jareth was beginning to grow impatient and quickly stood to his full height. "Report, Captian!"

Hoggle's mouth dropped open as he scrambled to his feet to stand in attention. "Sir! Its a human girl. She just popped in upon the bluff. I knows it wasn't you who brought her here and the lady seemed confused as well. She says she has one of your crystals and that the Goodmother Mim were the one to give it to her. She's here. Now. Waiting ter speak to you. I'm sorry your Majesty, but I saw no other choice but ter bring her along with me."

"You brought a human girl here? Now?!?" Jareth had to muster up all the self control he had not to explode on the grounds keeper who he knew was quite terrified of him in this moment.

Cracking under the pressure Hoggle couldn't take the suspense any more and threw himself out of his standing position and at Jareth's feet. "Please, Sire, Have mercy! Gwah!"

"Jesus, I can’t listen to anymore of this.” Jillian finally muttered having long since gained her full composure. “I’d better get in there. How about helping me out?”

 Nagol and Trizz abliged her and pulled the doors open making sure to duck behind them until they were summoned.

Jareth didn't have to adorn himself in noble regalia for Jillian to instantly register that he was the king.

"Your Majesty, I can attest that your servant wouldn't let me out of his sight whenever he found me, and he brought me straight to you. I just want to go home. Help me and I’ll gladly get out of your hair.” Jillian muttered bravely. “I don’t understand what’s going on but I think it has something to do with this. A woman by the name of Mim sold it to me in a shop in Boston. Hoggle implied it belongs to you.”

At this, Jillian fished the crystal from her purse and presented it to him. 

Jareth stared at the object for what felt like a long time. 

“I see.” He muttered at length. 

"Get up! And sit down!" Jareth hissed at his groundskeeper and then shut his eyes pitching the bridge of his nose.

"That witch Mim will pay for this..." He murmured before he finally looked Jillianfull in the face for the first time.

Jareth eyes dilated when he got a good look at the girl who had suddenly taken on what Jareth observed to be a solemn determination. Jillian’s eyes were large and heavy lidded. So large that they made her mouth and pointed but rounded face seem unusual. More elfish then he was used to for a human. Here brown eyes were eyes of a dreamer, of a child; a lost little girl who never quite grew up. Sensitive, so sensitive. Jareth assessed her as his unique abilities allowed, he could sense powerful even domineering dreams. Dreams that where so forceful they demanded to be taken as seriously as her reality. Their allure was greatly seductive and may have tempted Jareth to peak into them had he not got the overwhelming impression that any intrusion into her fantasies would be experienced as a violation. Her world was not for him to see or tamper with and so Jareth denied himself. There was something else, something private that disturbed the Goblin King and pricked at memories he couldn't quite bring forward into his awareness.

This girl, this creature, felt familiar to him. Intimate. Like they shared an important secret that neither of them could quite recall. The feeling unnerved him greatly and made Jareth want to retreat from Joby and tear away his gaze from her. For the briefest of moments Jareth experienced what could only be described as fear and a more elusive kind of shame. Both feelings Jareth screwed down into himself unwilling to show even the slightest indication of his thoughts to anyone watching him, though he suspected that both Meriel and Hoggle noticed his prolonged hesitation. The other goblins wouldn't notice it but Hoggle and Meriel would.

Finally Jareth managed to force his attention onto his crystal, the one Jillian was holding out to him and encouraging him to take back from her with her apologies. Jareth didn't want to touch it. A part of him was afraid of it for some reason. As if by taking it back from her he was admitting to a kind of complicity in her situation.

Instead of taking it back Jareth held up his hand between them in a deflective manner.

"I don't have the ability to send you home. Whether you realize it or not you've come to this place on your own accord or on Mim's. I 'm sorry, but I can't bring you back. You'll have to find another way. You have nothing I want and i having nothing to offer you." The last part of his statement sounded genuinely regrettable.

"As for that crystal, now that you have it you might as well keep it. Consider it a consolation to your predicament. In your world that crystal has the power to manifests your dreams, in mine it has the power to become whatever you need it to be. So keep it and use it as needed but beware of offering it to others, there are many who would like to have it for themselves." Jareth told her evenly.

"What is your name, girl?" He asked finally.

She saw his chin tilt casually in her direction. She wanted to be placid, steady, aloof, but when she caught his gaze, she felt a chord strike through her core and it reverberated through her whole body. Those eyes. Jillian knew those two-toned eyes. The notion froze all other thoughts. As he dissected her, she trudged through the thick fog of her past, trying to seek a face whose features had long faded into obscurity. She caught the briefest of...something...break the surface of Jareth's stern expression, like something had almost taken him by surprise.

“Well, Jesus. With that attitude I almost feel like I shouldn’t even bother with introductions. Contrary to what you might believe, I didn’t ask to come here. I don’t even know where here is. Now I’m trying really hard to keep my shit together and the least you could do is let me sit down and try to figure this out.” Jillian snapped, trying hard to keep her composure.

”Gods above. Very well, please. SIT. Someone get her a glass of water or something. I absolutely can’t stand crying women. Now. I understand your very confused right now but and I am not unsympathetic but You’re not the only one with problems here. Now let us try again. What is you name?” Jareth pressed.

My name is Jillian Andrews, of Boston.” Jillian muttered quietly.

Boston. The word reverberated like a drum in Jareth's ear.

Sarah Williams had been from Boston. The events of that Labyrinth quest were not so removed by time that Jareth had forgotten. In the few years Sarah Williams had been able to maintain magical contact with her friends in the Labyrinth, Jareth had watched her as well, having fulfilled her destiny. Her case had been such a difficult one. Crafting her adventure had pushed Jareth quite to his limits on more then one level and in the end the girl-child had nearly managed to convince him to abandon his own world in favor of a half imagined dream.

Was there a connection between this girl and Sarah? That would be irony indeed.

"Again I'm very sorry. My hands really are tied in this matter. What I can assure you is that Mim will be dealt with by me personally. she cant go around hiding in your world forever. When she does return I will be sure to hold her for you and perhaps you can convince her to take you back to the otherside. She does not have the same restriction of power that I do. In the meantime I suppose you're just going to have to make the best of your predicament. You're direct difficulties are not my concern and as you can see I am a very busy man. Now if you would so kindly step from the hall I must speak with my people." Jareth was dismissing her.

As much as Jillian’s situation was unfortunate, it was not the most pressing problem on the Goblin King's list to attend to just then.

“Is that seriously the best you can do?” Jillian challenged. “What exactly do you expect me to do in the meantime? You could at least offer to put me up or something until Mim appears. You seriously won’t even do that. Will you? What the kind of place is this? You know what? fine. Thanks, but no thanks.”

Amazing. It was amazing to Jareth how women never failed to misunderstand him and make utter ridiculous assumptions about what he would or would not do for them. For one, Jareth literally could not travel between worlds unless he was summoned or unless the deep goblin magic had been activated in which he could then travel on there coat tails. Sarah for example had asked asked that her baby brother be taken away, yet when the magic had been activated it had not been Jareth who abducted the child but rather the goblin's. Jareth had simple been dragged into the situation to save the girl from herself. It wasn't his fault that Sarah had never asked the right questions and gone on nearly to the end taking everything he had done for her for granted.

With the exception of Meriel, every woman he'd ever meet was the same in this regard.

For another, why was it his responsibility to fix the girl's problems as if she was incapable for doing anything for herself? Unlike Sarah this JIllian person was not a child. She did not really need constant hand holding and supervision and if she met some kind of terrible fate within his domain, that fate was not his fault. The crystal he was allowing her to have was beyond generous. To give over such a powerful tool to a human would no doubt garner scrutiny from some circles but it was the best protection he could offer her. He also fully intended to keep his word about Mim. The treacherous bitch.

“I never said I planned to leave you completely destitute, you are welcome to stay in my Kindom as long as you like, just NOT here in the castle.” He clarified.

Jareth had good reason not to have her in the castle. For one he didn't want the responsibility and it wasn't as if there weren't any number of places she could seek aid and shelter in the Labyrinth. He also didn't have time, much perpetration involving the castle needed to be completed and the last thing he needed was a disgruntled and confused human woman running about the castle Unsupervised and there under mysterious curimstances.

“If you want asylum among my people all you need do is ask. "Hoggle, why don't you take a few moments and assist your new friend here and please hurry. I cant tolerate anymore delays." Jareth tone was worn but firm.

Hoggle who had gotten to his feet by now looked from Jareth to Jillian, looking like a man who was caught up in the middle of an argument. Hoggle took Jillian by the hand and began to gently pull her towards the exit.

"Come on Jillian, it's going to be OK. Let's step out into ta the hall for a second." Hoggle encouraged her.

“Fine.” Jillian said flatly getting to her feet.

"Thank you for your time, Your Majesty." Jillian said cuttingly. I'll send your servant back in promptly. I apologize for interrupting your meeting."

With that, she stuck her handbag under her arm, regarded the rest of the room with an apologetic bow of her head, and marched from the hall.

She heard the hall doors slam closed behind her.

Jillian shook her angry thoughts out of her head and sat down against a nearbywall. She then slipped off her heels and pulled her knees up to rest her chin on them. “Asshole.”

You have nothing I want and I have nothing to offer you. Jareth's words repeated in her mind. What did he even mean by them? How could he have nothing? He was the damn KING. Weren't humans generally a BAD thing to have in a magical realm? That's how most of the stories went. One would have thought her presence would have been a high kind of priority.

Jillian sighed. “Now what do I do?”

Jillian took out the orb again, hoping it might somehow reveal its secrets.

Hoggle waited to comment until the were safely behind closed doors.

"Boy you certainly know how to make one Hell of a first impression. I aint seen Jareth use THAT much restraint in a long time back there and I don't like when he's so damn polite ta me." The dwarf shivered as if he was trying to shake off a chill.

”How can you work with that Jackass?” Jillian vented.

"He ain't a bad person really. though i wouldn't goes as far as calling him a friend. Frankly, he looked almost afraid ter take that crystal back from you. Like it would show him something he was afraid to see or sumethin. You know it works different for him then you. He actually gave yous the ability to call on him if yous need him. That orb be as much a way to summon him as it be a tool to give you what you want. In all my years I ain't ever seen him give one to anyone else sept one other person."

Hoggle sighed. "Look, I's got somthing fer you too. It aint going to be as useful to that orb but I don't want you going and getting yourself into trouble cause ya went somewhere without knowing. So here."

Hoggle reached to his many precious jewels that hung at his belt and picked from it a blocky looking compass and passed it to her. "OK. Take this. It'll help you get back through the maze. The Labyrinth tends to shift alot so even if you's know where your going it can be hard to get there. This compass follows the shifting patterns and will help you's get where you want to go as long as you know where your going. It'll also help you find peoples you’re looking for as long as their somewhere in the Kingdom. You just got to be clear about who it is."

“You know, you’re a pretty nice fellow Hoggle. I really appreciate what you’ve done for me. I hope this means we can be friends. God knows I could use a few right about now. "Guh ya don't have to go calling me a nice thing like that. I'm just doing my job helping you along. It's part of what we Labyrinth knights do. But huh, since you're offering and all...I guess Wez can be friends.” Hoggle actually blushed.

“Is he always that cryptic about things?” Jillian pressed.

"Jareth aint exactly the forthcoming type. He's got this thing about letting people figure stuff out for themselves. Some sort of personal philosophy he's stuck on. See, he believes in people and because he believes in people he almost outright refuses to help them unless he's bound to it by a bargain." Hoggle explained.

"but anyways I better get back in there..." Hoggle muttered.

"A quick word of warning before I's go. Whatever you do stay away from the arid flats, that be where all the junk piles start and avoid the enchanted forest too unless you want to find yourself in a different place all together." He warned her. "I's got to get back in there. I'll try to find you again when I'm through if you decide to go off on your own. Im sorry I can't helps you more, but this be bad timing for everyone." With that Hoggle prepared to go back into the throne room.

She took the compass, the needle shifted, unsure where to point to at the time.

"Oh, this will be helpful." She muttered sardonically.


	5. A Friend In Need Is A Friend Indeed

When Hoggle tentatively stepped back into the hall he discovered that other members of the Advising Council had joined Jareth. One such person was a beak-nosed goblin by the name of Fidgit who had once openly criticized Sarah Williams when she'd activated the goblin's magic. "Would you listen to that rubbish?!? It doesn't even begin with I wish! I wish the goblins would come and take my brother away right now! That's not so hard, now is it?!" Fidget was one of Jareth more intelligent and deliberate goblins. Well known for his sharp opinions and cutting impatience. Although technically a Labyrinth Knight Fidget had been demoted in rank due to his conduct during the battle in the Goblin City, but had retained his advising position because he was a goblin and it had been a debatable conflict of interest not to fight on Jareth's side. Didymus had also just arrived by way of some back entrance near his post overlooking the Bog of Enternal Stench and had taken it upon himself to escort the aged Wiseman who looked as if he was being guided in his sleep by the sprightly Fox.  
  
The only one left who wasn't there was Agnes the Junk Lady, though just because she wasn't there didn't mean she didn't know exactly what was going on at any given time. No doubt she would be late if she arrived at all.   
  
Jareth indicated to Hoggle to hurry up and sit down so he could get on with their business.  
  
"Right lets get on with this. I suppose you'e all wondering why I've called you here and I'm sure rumors have already begun to swirl. Well, allow me to clarify." Out of nowhere Jareth produced the oversized envelop Mim had presented to him and threw it into into the center of the table with a thwack that caused almost everyone to jump in their seats.  
  
"In their infinite wisdom in two weeks time the High Council Plans to unload upon us. I've just been told, not asked, TOLD that we are to host the High Council's Centennial Ball. In two weeks time the entire kingdom is going to be crawling with anyone who is anyone from the high corners of the blasted Underground. Now I don't think I need to remind any of you why that might be a little bit of a problem. I don't believe for one second this is a courteous expression of the High Councils Esteem for us. Certainly as a neutral sovereignty the kingdom has won few friends in recent memory and I will not have the security of everything we have established here compromised. That said I cannot defy the High Council in this matter therefore we must formulate a strategy in addressing the matter. I am asking for your advisement and council." Jareth informed them all seriously as he leaned over the table and griped its edge.  
  
Everyone only looked at each other, all stunned and equally concerned. Finally, Sir Didymus got up the gumption to pose a question. "But...My Lord? Why now? Why here? Doths thy Majesty really believe that the High Council wishes thee ill?"  
  
Jareth smiled mirthlessly. "With out a doubt, Sir Knight."  
  
"Well don't the Goblin Kingdom have any friends?" Hoggle interjected with unusual confidence he reserved for when he felt indignant. "Gwah, I mean can't we control whose coming to this thing?"  
  
"The dwarf makes a fair point, we may not be able to exclude certain parties from attendance but we can certainly stack the deck to our favor. Who do you know on the High Council we can count on?" The White Huntress inquired waving a little at the drawf in acknowledgement.

 

~@~

 

"I may have one or two favorable friends left among the Empyrean and, Meriel, the people of the Enchanted Forest will follow your lead. The only real good ally I can think of that holds a direct seat at the High Council's table is Scheherazade, Queen of the Forgotten dessert. she's fair and discerning at the very least and will remain impartial. As for the kingdom of Astraea...They've been silent for some decades. Hoggle, do you think the far off Dwarven clans to the North and East would even respond to us? Goblins are not their favorite beings, but they may be tempted if we offer them access to a few of our lesser treasuries."

"guh, I dunno. I suppose it wouldn't hurt teh try, but just remember if they get a better offer from someone else the'll not think twice about turning on you." Hoggle advised shrewdly.

"Sir Didymus, what about the intellectual animals and the retired knights?" Jareth inquired turning his attention to the fox.

"Well, I see no reason why they wouldn't want to come to the party, your Majesty. But it might be fair hard to track many of them down. I could send out word but it may take a good amount of time." Didymus offered.

"Do it,Sir Knight. We'll hope for the best." Jareth agreed. "I want all the oubliettes temporary sealed as well as all entrances in and out of the castle save the main ones. The maze is to be put on high alert but there is to be no interference unless it's a matter of state or on my orders. The castle goblins will be enchanted to take a more pleasing form but the city and maze goblins are to remain as they are and I want everyone on their best behavior. No doubt, invitations will also be sent out to the Earthlong and Silent Ones. I'm sure they will be too busy distrusting each other to bother with meddling with me. I have good faith that some of the lesser Green Children will also be willing to provide entertainment. The Arid Flats are to be marked as off limits to everyone. Are we agreed?"

Everyone nodded in agreement except for Agnes who of course was a Junk Person and not there to voice her opinion.

"I want the agreement of everyone, that includes you Agnes. You might as well come out from behind that curtain you're ease dropping behind. I'm entrusting you to keep your people in line. The last thing I need is some royal going and losing all of their memories." Jareth muttered referring to a hidden area near his throne behind him.

"Dwah, his Gobliness ruins all of Agnes's fun!" A loud clacking sound could be heard as Agnes tried to turn around and pull back the curtain. Her large shell like mass of junk bashing into either side of the wall she'd been hiding as well as one or too ease dropping goblins. "Ow! My back! Well? Get out of my darned way! Don't sass!"

Finally the goblin spy emerged pretending to move much slower than she was actually capable of to give the illusion of age and fragility.

"Glad you decided to join us, Agnes. Do I have your people's word?" Jareth pressed.

"Yeah, yeah. Keep your pretty pants on. We promise not ta interfere. At least not unless someone starts something first. So you keep them royals out of our hair and everything should be fine." The junk woman muttered.

"Fine. Then the invitation go out now. The rest of you know what to do. I want progress reports as soon as they become available." Jareth ordered. "You're all dismissed, and thank you."

Satisfied everyone began to shuffle in their seats. Until Hoggle cleared his throat. "Huh, Jareth..."

"Huh, Gods. If I must..." Jareth looked annoyed. "As one final remark there is a human woman that appeared in the Labyrinth by the name of Jillian Andrews. Clearly, I did not bring her here, so her protection and security falls under the jurisdiction of the Labyrinth Knight so long as she is roaming about the kingdom. Please assist her at your own discretion. That's all I have to say. You may all go now."

Jareth pressed his fist to his heart and bowed graciously to the lot of them then waited patiently for all of them to shuffle out. Meriel rose graciously from her chair to stand discreetly near him. "I notice, you failed to mention your own family on the list. Xayide is part of the Royal Court. Am I to take it you don't intend to ask your mother to stand with you?"

"No. I of course would not and could not deny her the right to face the High Council if she so chose. However, I believe Queen Mad is up to some kind of trechery and Xayide's exile and history may or may not complicate things. If things do go badly I'm going to need a hidden ace or two in my hand to keep the Labyrinth safe. "

"How was she today when you went to her?" Meriel asked, subtly touching the edge of jareth's arm through his clothing.

"Deadly dangerous at first. The forrgetful ennui of the junk people's magic keeps her docile enough, but only to a point. Ultimately though, her mother's love brought her awareness forward enough to speak with me." Jareth sighed inaudibly. 

"If they High Council tries to move against you, they may spur Xayide to retaliat." Meriel pointed out.

"I doubt many of the great families even realize Xayide is here. Mab herself will likely rely on the power of the Arid Flatts and Xayide's own dispondency to keep her in check. In any case there are just some contegencies I can't and won't try to account for. Come what may may we are all caught in the greater intracacies of the word in which we live. No one, not even Mab is exempt from the will of fate. What will be will be inspite of anyone's preference." Jareth said darkly knowing Meriel could not dispute his point.

 

~@~

 

Meanwhile while Hoogle and the others took their meeting, Jillian was trying to come to terms with what had happened to her and what she was going to do about it.

 

At this point her best conclusion was that she's either been drugged and was caught up in some bizzare drug enduced trip hopefully being comfortably cared for in a hospital somewhere by capable professionals or that she had indeed somehow gotten herself caught up insome kind of fastastical horror show of fuckery. While Jillian didn't exactly believe if magic and other worlds she was at least open minded enough to entertain the possability of such things existing. Like most children who had grown up under terrible curcimstanced and conditions, Jillian had often relied on her ability to escape into her own imagination as a child and even as an adult she loved fantasy and enjoyed the motifs of movies and stories about places like the Underground. But to be in such a place for real and without any proper context or explination? That was something Jillian wasn't sure how to handle and at the moment it was hard to know what she was expected to do or who she could turn to for help.

 

Jillian looked down at the compass Hoggle had given her and rattled it breifly. Hoggle hadn't really explained how to use it and the thing only somewhat resembled a typical compass. Part of her figured it would be wise to just wait for everyone to get done with their meeting and see if Hoggle or someone else would perhaps give her some kind of idea what to do next. Jillian also was tempted to try and talk to the man in charge one more time and see if she could reason with him. Her impression of the strange man was that he was a true leader and probably a bit of a prick most of the time. Jareth's words still niggled in the edges of Jillian's mind. What exactly had he been implying with that crack about her not having anything he wanted? Jillian asked herself again. Furthermore, If he really was such a all important king, wasn't it his duty to do the right thing for its own sake?

 

Jillian blew out a huffing breath. She felt tired by now and gritty. Her outfit wasn't exactly ideal for her persent perdicament and in spite of herself she found she was getting hungry and thirty again. It had to be near closing time at work by now. 

 

"Maybe I should just...Try to figure this out for myself." Jillian muttered trying to resist the urge to cry in fustration again.

 

For the most part it seemed as if nobody cared that she was there and Jareth had given her clearence to do what she liked and ask for what add she could find. It seemed to her that the next logical recourse would be to leave while she could and try to find someone she could lean on for a bit of information and mercy.

  
Jillian had a good memory for things she saw. While the the maze moved a shifted the castle and the city just outside it seemed to be safe enoguh to wonder around in. Notwanting to wait any longer and wanting to get a bit of her own back, jillian eventually got to her feet and after dusting off her clothes, looped her hand bag through the cord of the pouch she'd been given then tied the whole lot to the thin black belt at her waist. 

 

Looking at the compass again Jillian thought about what Hoggle had said. The compass was designed to take her places as long as she knew where she was going. Jillian wondered how specific that concept really was. Like...Did it have to lagitamiate be a place she knew or could she just have a good idea of what she wanted from where she was going? Jillian decided to test this possible theory.

 

"Alright you. Lets see what you can do. I'm very thirsty and I don't want to deal with alot of weirdness. I want to go to a quiet place where I can clean myself up. In her minds eye Jillian imagined a quaint little secluded hedge garden with a fountain and a grove of trees with a stone bench along one side. It was the most pleansant safe feeling thing she could thing to imagine and as she peered down at the compass to her amazement it's hand began to spin before a kind of tinkling sound emmitted from it indicating it had settled on her chosen destination with it red hand. Turning experimentally, Jillian noticed a silver second hand move like a typical compassing. It was clear the idea was that she move so that  both the red and and the silver were going in the same direction.

 

"Well...Alright then. Let's give it a chance." Normally Jillian would have been afraid to part from her only apparent ally but in this case she had believed Hoggle when he promised he would find her again once he was free. Somehow it seemed to easer for here to take people at their word in this strange place.

  
Walking out of the castle and through the Goblin City Jillian did her best to look around trying to memorize the city's layout in case she had to back track. The streets and paths of the goblin city were filled with goblin laughter and chatter along with the sound of creatures rumaging about in the small housed and ocassional small ruckuses. Everyone seemd to ignore her for the most part.

 

"So this is a Goblin City." Jillian muttered. "It's alot more...Normal than I might have imagined."

 

Jillian hesitated when the compass implied she walk down a stone doorway situated in the middle of the street. Certainly it didn't want her to walk down into it? Yet every time she tried to walk around it the compass's hands spun violently in protest.

 

Grunting, Jillian took the hint and did what it wanted her to do. The stone stairs lead to what seemed like a underground walkway that was lit by the ocassional rays of sunlight being vented through the stone ceiling. The walkway seemed to go on for some time and was utterly empty with the exception of the ocassional rodent like fluff scuring across the floor. After some time Jillian began to grow furstated and was planning to turn around but when she tried to peer behind her she was stirtled to find the path behind her was nothing but a dead end.

 

"What the F.." Jillian realized that she must have crosssed out of the goblin city and was now in some part of the Labyrinth. It was the only good explination for the shifting tunnel.

 

Spinning back around Jillian was confronted by another dead end in front of her. Though, to her relief, there was at least a ladder situated on this wall leading up several feet through a tunnel that Jillian hoped would lead to the surface.

Sure enough, the tunnel ultimately lead to a stone cap that Jillian was able to push aside. With a little more effort she was able to hoist herself up through the opening which indead led out into the sunlight. Jillian found that the tunnel cap was part of a large fountian centerpeice. She could here the freash clear water tinkle as it fell into the base of the fountain. Careful not to slip Jillian climbed off the fountain and back onto the plush grass.

 

"I think my nylons are pretty much toast." She noted, rubbing at her thighs through her skirt. "I really need to find different shoes of I'm going to be clombing up stone walls and scaling fountains on a regular basis."

 

Taking the time now to look around Jillian realized she was standing in what seemed to be a hedgy part of the maze. The walls seemed slightly lower here. More decorative. The lawn went on for a little ways and included other small stone sculptures. Jillian had to confess it was a very pretty looking space. Much of what she'd seen in the last several hours was beautiful or at the very least interesting looking. Turning around to face the fountain Jillian took a moment to dip her fingers into the cool water. It felt normal enoguh and looked perstinely clean. Though it probably wan't a good idea to sip from it, Jillian figured it was safe enough to at least use to wash her hands and face with. A few minutes later Jillian collected herself and started to look around again. Her senses told her that there were fruit bearing trees near by. She could smell the subtle sweet scent in the air. Following her nose, Jillian peaked around one of the corners and glanced down at her compass. The hands were moving again. Jillian followed along turning a few other times when the maze suddenly opened up onto a small orchard. To Jillian's suprise the space looked exactly like what she's imagined in her minds eye back in the castle hall. 

 

"Impossible." Jillian muttered as she walked among the miniture fruit trees each full of colorful fruit that only slightly sembled things she might have recognized.

 

Jillian approached what looked like a small blue-purple plum at slowly took the warm fruit in her palm. It felt fleshy and rip and as she held it on the stem she felt her stomach gruggle with want. Part of Jillian wasdeeply tempted to pluck the fruit and eat it, but another part of her felt hesitent. She wasn't in Boston anymore. There was no way of knowing what could happen if she ingested something she wasn't familar with.

  
"This place is miraculous." Jillian muttered. "Miraculous and impossible."

 

She dropped the plum from her hand and stepped away still trying to decide what to do.

"I...I don't know anything about miracles. But...Nothing is impossible here...Or, at least, I don't really see how anything could be impossible in a place like this. I don't really know, I suppose." Someone muttered suddenly from the other side of a short green hedge that was on the other side of the garden.

the man speaking sounded lost and somewhat unsure but well meaning as he stammered through his train of thought with only the back of his head showing over the hedge and what appeared to be a soft pink frilly looking parasol hovering over the man's head angled against the sun.

"In any case, I'd be careful what I eat here. In this specific place at least. I can't say for sure, but, now and again, I see creatures forget themselves and nibble a bit here or there. It never seems to work out well for them after that. Practically everything in the labyrinth seems saturated in magic. I mean...Dont take my word for it or anything. you can probably eat that one and be alright, though I can't be certain on the subject really." The man went on in a rambling manner, his voice sounded English but more warbled in tone. Like the man suffered from a mild kind of fluttering anxiety that he was trying to minimize if not entirely conceal.

The voice jerked Jillian back into reality. "Who said that?"

 

To her question, no one answered forcinf Jillian to trod quietly near where the thought the voice had come from.

 

Looking about she eventually caught sight of the top of a pink parisol just peaking over the top of a nearby low hedge.

"I wasn't really planning to eat anything here." Jillian confessed.

 

Peaking over the hedge she saw a threap worn man with sandy air lying on his back in the grass using the pick parisol to sheild his face from the sun. He looked unhappy and vulnerable as if he'd been there a long time and had forrgotten how to get up.

"Are...Are you OK?" Jillian asked in a conserned tone. "It's very hot out here."

"No. The sun. It bothers me. There's not often alot of shade among the maze and I'm frightfully afraid to go near the enchanted forest. I like laying here though. Its pretty at least. Wouldn't you agree?" The man didn't even try to look at Jillian, he just looked up into his parisol or down to his side at the ground with one knee bent up with his other leg curled around the bent one as if he was trying tuck as much of himself as possible under the very limited shade of his umbrella.

The man's outfit was simple and bland. He wore black trousers and a small black vest over a course textured but typical white shirt with large billowed sleeves and a worn white cravat at his throat that had seen better days but looked quite clean. The man's face was long and hollow but more common than aristocratic. and his eyes were dull and wet looking like polished blue stones submerged in water. The man was tall. About six feet. Taller than the Goblin King by at least a nose and forehead. And he was thin and gangly of limb with one hand holding the parisol and the other arm resting limp palm up at his side as if he had not the energy or the inclination to be master of it.

"Don't worry. Nothings died that I'm aware of...But you know. Sometime a creature will change color, or go seemingly mad, or simply develop some kind of strange affliction that I'm sure must entirely upturn the rest of its day. Nothing too serious, I imagine. There's certainly worse things that can happen to you in this place. I do try to stay put whenever possible. But the maze...It shifts. And sometimes I just cant help but wander away when I see something new or interesting. And then poof, I'm lost again."

"Yeah. I can see how that could happen." Jillian remarked.

 

The man behaved as if he had been shaken by something. She wondered what he had seen wandering around the labyrinth.

 

"Well if you want any help getting somewhere I could probably give you a hand. You say that you're lost. How long have you been here?" Jillian inquired, tilting her head slightly to the side.

"Not quite forever, I think. Its hard to gauge. Time here in this maze moves strangely and...sometimes, I think, not at all. I'm not sure what that might imply exactly. But I'm sure it implies something important. All I remember is that I was looking for something. Something that escapes me just now. I get flutters sometimes, but for the most part much of it's gone. Fluttering towards me one moment and away and out of sight the next." The man said.

 

"I see. Well, may name is Jillian Andrews. I'm...Not from here but plan to stay awhile. Can I help you up?" Jillian inquired offering him her arm. 

 

The strange man looked at her hand and eventually took it, leting her help hoist him to his feet.

"Dunne Perchete. At your service, Madam." The man bowed deeply at the waist in a most well meaning manner once he was on his feet again. "You look very nice. I see that your not from around these parts. With the exception of people coming out of the forests, I don't recall seeing many people such as yourself around here. Perhaps we might become friends."

"I could certainly use a few of those right about now. Nice to meet you Dunne." Jillian remark.

She reached out a hand for him to shake and was pleased when Dunne took it.

"where exactly are you from then?" Dunne asked looking her up and down once more in a dull manner.

 

" I'm from a city called Boston," Jillian thought for a second recalling what they called the greater place she was in. "It's...In the above."

 

"Ah." Dunne said showing no real sign that he understood what she meant.

 

"Dunne can I ask you something? Do you know of somewhere I can maybe stay? a Inn or something?" Jillain asked.

"I'm not much good with directions and such, at least, I don't think I am. But I do know a place you might be able to stay if you can get us there. Its a place in the Goblin City. A young woman by the name of Magdalene. She's a blackmith, I think. Human as well. I'm willing to bet she'd be willing to put you up for a while. She's always been willing to help me when I've come across her." Dunne offered.

This seemed like a logical plan and with Jillian's compass as their guides it wasn't hard to find their way back into the Goblin City and to Magdalene's specific hovel.

The Hovel in question was indeed a blackmith's hut and, seeing that it belonged to a human and not a goblin, was quite a bit bigger than many of the other buildings around it.

Mag was outside working in the back when she saw Dunne approach her work area.

Mag looked young, parhaps just seventeen but certianly no older than twenty. She was plain and dressed as a typical peasant. When she saw Dunne a grave kind of relief overtook her expression as she put down the sword she was working on and waited for them to approach.

"Dunne, you found your way back. I'm glad to see your still alive. Who is your companion?" Mag turned her attention to Jillian.

"My name is Jillian. As you can probably guess I'm..."

 

"You're from the Above. There was word sent around that you were here." Mag explained. "Well I'm sure you could use a place to rest. Come inside and we'll have a chat."

 

"I really don't want to be a bother. This has just been...I really confusing and fustrating day." Jillian said as she followed the other woman inside with Dunne following behind them.

"You're world is not unknown to me. Although I can't claim to have seen it for myself. The woman who probably brought you here was Mim I bet. I'm afraid she's a better trouble maker than she is a sorceress. At least so far as those gifted in magic go around here. I have no doubt she will be back in the Goblin City soon enough, you can probably speak to her in a few days and since Jareth wasn't responsible for bring you here, I'm happy to assist you in whatever way I can." Magdalene romised.

"My name is Mag. Please have a seat. I'll get Dunne something to eat and find you both a place to sleep. By the way. Thank you for bringing him back to me." The blacksmiths tone had a measured gravity to it that suggested she half expected never to see the the man again.

Magdalene brought them both into her house and put some cold stew over the fire for Dunne, quietly instructing him to sit down near the fire until it was ready. The man seemed to obey like an absentminded, though obedient child, and went on to sit and stare quietly into the flames with his pink parasol neatly closed and laying beside him seemingly out of place with it's candy pink coloring and frill.

"You can sleep up in the loft. Just there. You might want to brush up on some practical things about the Labyrinth. Somewhere around here I have some books on the subject that might prove useful. If you end up staying for a long period of time, I might suggest you consider traveling to other parts of the underground in the future where there are larger human populations. The Labyrinth itself doesn't have many human people in it. The few of us that are were generally born here. Contrary to popular belief very few end up in the Labyrinth by magic or chance. In fact other than you, in the forty years I've seen people come and go here Sarah Williams was the only one to challenge the great maze itself." Magdalene remarked.

"Oh God. Are you suggesting I could be here a long time? I...I can't accept that. I need to figure out a way home as soon as possible." Jillian insisted.

"I'm just incouraging you to be realistic." Mag remarked. "It very well might not be as bad as all that."

Jillian didn't feel very reasured by this but for the moment she was too tired, hungry, and uncomfortable to inquire further about the situation. Wanting to change the subject Jillian's gaze feel on Dunne who was still sitting aimlessly staring into the fire.

 

 "He's forgotten himself. I don't know much about his origins but I know he was born in the underground and has since lost his memories to the maze. I also suspect he's not all together human. If he was he'd probably be dead by now. Dunne is much like a child in the sense that he relies heavy on child-like fear and curiosity to help him get by. Most of the time when he wanders off into the maze he won't eat or drink anything. He's too afraid too usually. So you can imagine why I worry about him when he disappears for weeks at a time." Mag explained.

"As for your prediciment, there's a ball coming up soon. Mim won't miss out on such an event. She's terribly vain and brown nosing. And there will be many important people present that she'll want to rub elbows with. You'll be able to talk to here for sure. What did Jareth say when you mentioned how you came to be here? I assume you sought an audience with him." Mag inquired.

"Not exactly. Hoggle orginally brought me with him to the castle, but when I confronted the King about my situation he more or less blew me off and sent me packing claiming there was nothing he could do besides try to aprehend Mim on my behalf. Do you really think the ball would be my best chance at finding her? There's nothing I hate more than disturbing a nice time for everyone, but I certainly can't stay here forever either. If she does show up ther how am I to get an audiance with her? I certainly don't want to wait around for that king to let me see here." Jillain said.

"If Mim has done something punishable I can almost guarantee you that Jareth will ensure she is detained for a period of time. The two don't particularly get along. As for going to the festivities you could ask to go with someone from the enchanted forest. Everyone from Meriel's domain has been invited. You'd be less conspicuous that way. The festivities go for five nights. It isn't all just ball rooms and dancing. Part of the event acts as a summit for the High Council and attending kingdoms and its a chance to address larger problems that the Council wants assistance with. I'll be there as part of the King's Guard. In any case there's still much time. For now if I were you I would relax and try to acclimate a little." As Mag reassured her she caught the pot ready to simmer over and excused herself to attend to it.

"Come and have some real food. Tomorrow I'll find those books for you and help your sort some other details out." Mag promised.

The scent of the stew triggered a loud rumble in Jillian's. When Mag returned she got up and took the bowl in passing seeing it was filled with leeks, carrots, onions, potatoes, and some vegetables she couldn't recognize.

By now Dunne had joined them at the table and Jillian absently patted Dunne's shoulder as she retuned to her seat and settled beside him. No one spoke for awhile giving Jillian time to reflect on the sheer insanity that had occurred. She looked at Mag and Dunne still hardly believing where she was.

"Thank you. Both of you. I'd be spending the night in that garden if it weren't for you, Dunne. And Mag, this is all too much really, your hospitality, this meal. You two have been such a tremendous help to me and I hardly know how to repay you." Jillian said sincerly.

 

"Think nothing of it. The Goblin Kingdom is a nuteral sovereignty. As such we do our best to take care of those who fall into our fold whenver possible. As far as I'm conserned you are a guest of the Kingdom and as such you are entitled to our hospitality." Mag reassured her.

 


	6. The Prince In Exile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Astraea kingdom and related characters and connected storyline was orginally created by a writer with the handle of Diabolicalxdamsel over at roleplaygatway.com. To honor the story which ties into the orginal work presented here I present a segment of her writing that we mutually contributed to. I will ultimately continue the story from the point in which she stopped contributing but I want to give credit where credit is due.
> 
> Jillian is my own character but her backstory which is being used here was co-written by myself and my co-writer. This chapter was written by her and continued by me.
> 
> Astraea is what we decided to call the unamed kingdom presented in the fantasy film "Legend".

 

"Yes, yes I'm coming," muttered an irritable Marten Gwyndion into one of his gold cuffs that had began to glow in a bright light. He had nearly finished dressing and was throwing on a loose, collared black tunic when he received his summons. Quickly, he cupped some cold water from a basin by his wardrobe and splashed it on his face. He ran his hands through lengthy coal black hair and tucked his mother's ring that hung from a black cord under his collar. He never cared for mornings, but he was always expected to be one of the first out of bed to prepare the Prince for his daily duties. Stifling a yawn, he left the safe confides of his bedroom in a brisk walk. His older brother hated to be kept waiting.   
  
Marten had long grown accustomed to the servants diverting their gaze and distancing themselves from his path, but many still made the effort to address him with some respect. Long before his exile, rumors spread about the princess Lili's youngest son. 

  
"He's a bad seed, I tell you." He once overheard a court member say when he was a child.

  
"Mark my words, he'll be nothing but trouble and misery for this kingdom," another had said.

  
"He is Darkness reborn" the cook theorized.  
  
Marten would grow to fulfill some of the kingdom's expectations, earning a reputation of being a menace, a deviant, and a selfish addict who nearly threw the kingdom of Astraea into yet another state of turmoil due to his actions. Life wasn't easy being the child who carried the brunt of his mother's curse. When the beloved Astraean Princess Lili had allowed the influence of the Lord Darkness to enter into her pure heart, it had become divided, possessing equal amounts of both energies. Her offspring weren't so evenly split. The eldest, Dedric, came to the world like a breath of the eternal spring the kingdom dwelled in and smiled happily just hours after his arrival. He radiated a sort of purity that caused servants and citizens alike to look upon him like a child messiah. Marten's birth on the other hand carried with it a cold reminder that the curse still possessed a firm hold over the Astraean Kingdom. He certainly didn't look evil, but he carried with him a cold, heavy aura that induced a sense of dread to anyone around him.   
  
Growing up, he'd endured a parade of tutors and nursemaids, most of whom struggled to treat him with the same warmth and affection as Dedric. Other children avoided him altogether, too afraid to even pick on him. His brother never seemed affected by his presence, and generally treated with kindness and fairness though he was often bossy and used his position as future king to call the shots during playtime. However, he couldn't resist the attention and adoration of his other peers, and soon left Marten to his own devices.   
  
As a teen, he'd become fed up with the sympathetic gestures of his parents. His brother had long sided with his friends and often reminded Marten of the terrible thing he had inside him. Ultimately, He'd developed in interest in the magical sciences, finding black magic in particular to be the most gratifying. With little effort, he could bring life to inanimate objects, he could manipulate the elements and bend them to his power. At last he felt a sense of control, a reason to take pride in himself in his brother's shadow. Dedicating years of study to his art, he grew more powerful, as did the Darkness in his heart. His depression, anger, and sense of isolation deepened and he resented his home for rejecting him. He found a way out, a way to pierce the veil between the Underground and Aboveground. On the other side, he found a marvelous world with a tremendous population of rejected souls...and they welcomed him into their company with open arms. For the first time in his life, Marten felt like he belonged. He ran wild in a bustling human city of tall gray towers, thick black smoke and vices to ease every pain he suffered and women who found him to be a handsome bedmate.   
  
He jumped between worlds as often as he could get away with, but he never learned to seal the portal behind him. An unknowing human would be crossing through an alley on a winter's night and find themselves in a blossoming warm forest bathing in sunshine. A gnome would be digging for truffles and cross over onto hard, black pavement, standing face to face with a starved, feral stray dog. By then, Marten's mind was clouded by a variety of substances. He wasn't aware of the mayhem he had left behind.

In the now shrouded in his disgrace, Marten found comfort in his prayers.  
  
The temple sat just outside the capital city, topping a large, gently sloping hill. It was a open air structure reminiscent of Grecian architecture with a large dome propped up by a dozen marble columns adorned with feather-light white cloth. The statue depicted a toga clad woman with hair spilling down to her knees. She wore a simple banded crown around her brows and her face was tilted upward. One arm hung down holding a pair of scales that would tilt during times of disharmony. The other arm extended high above her, fingers stretching towards a silver and gold star that floated independently above her.  
  
"Guide the Great Prince Dedric on the noble path of justice and may he never stray away from it. May the people forever hold you in their hearts so fully that they have no room for the temptations of Darkness. Protect us from all that is evil, all that is cold. May the roots of our eternal spring hold fast against the destructive forces of fear, hate, and greed."  
  
It was during this ritual that Marten felt at peace. Away from the whispers and the stares, he felt secure and loved in the light of his goddess. He had become quite the spiritual man in his atonement, and before Astraea's statue, he felt a humility without self-hatred.  
  
"Watch over the Royal party as we begin our journey through the Underground to spread your blessings and secure our place in the realm."  
  
He felt the breeze pick up and the sun had rose over the trees, casting a rich, golden glow on the temple floor.  
  
"And as always, watch over your daughter in the Aboveground. Hold her in your holy embrace and keep her safe from all harm. May she know the Light of love and may it always lead her home.   
  
He stood and presented an offering of a basket filled with cherries at her feet. He would be back later to pay his respects with Dedric before their trip, but he always preferred to worship alone.  
  
  
~@~

A while later Marten moved on to attend to his brother as he did every morning.

 

Dedric was still in his dressing gown when he heard his door creak open and his pitiable brother enter the room.  
  
"Marten, I have some news" he said without turning around. He knew whenever his brother walked into a room; the air always felt chillier. "The High Court has just announced where they will be holding their centennial ball."  
  
"Oh?" Marten replied. "By the sound of it, they didn't accept your application for it to be held here."  
  
Dedric shook his head, frowning as he finally turned. "Unfortunately not. Mab seems particularly adamant about the Goblin City hosting the festivities." He knew that would get his brother's attention.  
  
"No kidding. My, that ought to prove to be...well interesting to say the least."   
  
"Ugh, it's going to be a disaster if you ask me."  
  
Not that Dedric thought ill of the city or its king, he actually didn't think much about the place at all. At his core, he fancied himself a businessman of sorts wheeling and dealing on behalf of his kingdom. He knew how to positively charm leaders and push trade agreements in his favor. He thrived in his position, managing to shield much of his country's infighting from other nations. Astraea's prime export was its bountiful crops, boasting the widest variety of produce in the Underground. His kingdom was also envied for its natural beauty, the vast wilderness around the city forever bloomed in endless spring, not counting the winter that his mother first unleashed the dreaded curse.   
  
He saw the Goblin City as a quirky little place, an ancient husk of a city populated by untold numbers of unpleasant creatures and one lonely man. It possessed no exports (unless someone ever needed sand, hedge bushes or garbage), Jareth never seemed to bother too much in maintaining foreign relations with his neighbors, and the city itself was just...well, dull. Sure it was a special place in its own way, much like a skeleton of a man still walking around powered by his own refusal to die. Dedric just didn't see anything beneficial in conducting business with the place. He would have preferred to skip the event altogether, but he knew his attendance was not optional and would reflect poorly upon him among the Underground.   
  
"And on top of that," he said "we only have two weeks to prepare. I'll be needing you to compile a list of anyone outside of the High Court who will be expected to attend."  
  
Marten nodded as he opened the wardrobe and laid out the day's clothing. Dedric moved to the mirror as his brother began dressing him.   
  
Like his brother, Dedric inherited their father's black hair, but his lay in tousled curls like their mother. He also had Jack's piercing blue eyes that could disarm even the most rigid of maidens. He was just a bit taller than Marten, but that could have been in the way he carried himself: straight back and chin tilted high. Marten tended to slouch, eyes watching the floor. He pitied the man sometimes. He was born with far more Darkness in his heart and thus became attracted to its power. Dedric really tried to lend a hand growing up offering companionship and tutoring him when his teachers tucked tail and ran. However, he was five years older and thus inevitably joined the ranks of his fellow noble peers who didn't care for the younger prince's company.   
  
So whenever Marten first started causing issues some thirty odd years ago, Dedric felt partially responsible. He knew his brother possessed Darkness inside him, but he didn't do enough to help keep it under control. Now, after having to ask Mab for permission to wipe the memories of half a dozen humans that had wandered into his forest from the Aboveground, after having to sneak a twenty man search unit into the Aboveground to frantically search for a lost unicorn foal, after having to deal with the humiliation of the court accusing him of hiding the truth of his brother having a love child with an Aboveground human, after an untold number of trials, he felt that he had Marten properly supervised. For fifteen years, he had not practiced any magic. Dedric knew about the first time he had opened a window. He had peeked through his bedroom door and decided his rule breaking slide. Seeing his poor Lilian suffer her terrible fate was punishment enough. During the Goblin King's still too recent visit, a servant told him that she had overheard Marten strike up some bargain with him in order to have the child taken someplace else. Once again he kept silent. After all, he knew she was being abused and she was still his niece; he wasn't heartless. But after that, Dedric watched him, keeping tabs on all of his known contacts for magical ingredients. Sure enough, he caught his brother red handed a few years later checking up on his daughter again.   
  
"Look at her, she is perfectly fine, happy, and heathy" he had told him. "She has a father, a mother; you can let her go. Now I'm reporting this violation of your exile to the High Court."  
  
Over the years, Dedric would glance into his niece's life. He watched her grow and made sure no one from the Underground brought her to his kingdom. She may have looked kind in her world, but he feared what Darkness she had inside her. Besides, he had plans to produce an heir himself, though he knew his time was starting to tick away. A wife was hard to find when all the women around him were so star struck, they forgot to behave like normal persons.   
  
"When will you be needing that list" Marten asked as he finished his task.  
  
"As soon as you can" said Dedric "I have come up with a few trade routes I'd like to discuss with some neighbors to the North and East."  
  
One thing was for certain, no matter how droll of a party he had to endure, he wouldn't be leaving empty handed.

  
  


~@~  
  
"Did the court receive the guidelines I expect them to follow in my absence?" asked Dedric as Marten secured the clasp of his mantel that draped over his shoulders a few days later.  
  
"Of course," said Marten. "And yes they know how to reach me should you be needed, and yes Lord Marrowing has agreed to head the Festival of Ferns while we're gone, and yes our cargo station now has plenty of mirthberry wine and gilly figs to present to our neighbors. We are all set to go, brother. We're fine."  
  
Dedric sighed and nodded. "Right. Excellent. Now if you can just carry those bags down to Hugo..." he said pointing to two sizable sacks of some thick, red leather. With a groan, Marten managed to lift them both and carry them on unsteady legs to where the royal party was packing.  
  
Unlike most of the Underground kingdoms, Astraean nobility did not travel by instantaneous means. The world outside their land benefited by the warmth and sunshine that accompanied the party as it traveled, spreading bouts of good weather and crop growth. Traveling by foot was one way Astrea did their part in maintaining the overall well being of the Underground. The journey usually required a good deal of forethought, planning, and communication between the cities that they would be staying in. Dedric had spent the last week mulling over letters and invites, requesting audiences with various noblemen pitching promises of unique goods in exchange for room and board. After arranging some meetings, Dedric surmised that the journey would last them a good ten days. He hated being away from his city for so long. Why did the high council insist on extending the ball for two entire weeks century after century? He wouldn't require more than five days to get his own affairs in order, he was certain. The rest would simply be a waste of time that is unless he could spend it wooing a potential wife. He felt somewhat resentful that his disaster of a brother had long managed to spawn his own offspring without really meaning to, while he had to dance around bureaucracy just to get an audience with a proper woman. Then again, Marten's tastes were far lass refined.  
  
He closed his eyes, walking himself through a mental checklist several times over. Everything was in place. He just had to loosen his grasp over his city. This trip would be the longest he'd been away from home since his reign began. He walked towards his enormous bedroom window. Parting the curtains, he gazed down at the citizens that and begin to populate the sidewalks, ready to bid their leader and hero farewell.  
  
  
Marten tugged at his collar as beads of sweat already began to trickle down his neck. Dedric insisted that he wear the lined dress shirt despite the heat. The temperature would drop once they were out of Astraea, but until then he was roasting. His brother approached, donned in white and gold and gave him a firm clap on the back.  
  
"Let's go see all those loving faces" he said smiling widely  
  
"Loving faces, right." replied Marten as he watched his brother practically leap onto the wagon that would be parading them through the city. It never ceased to amaze him how quickly the man could go from being gruff and business-like to warm and sprightly. Dedric offered an arm and helped hoist him up. Dedric took his place at the head of the wagon while Marten took a seat on a bench behind him. He detested nothing more than these overblown processions. They were all the same: Dedric basking and beaming in the light of his people's adoration, the same people who subsequently cast scorns and jeers like stones at the younger, exiled prince and still he had to wave. Still he had to smile and carry on, numb himself against the world and be a martyr to it.  
  
The half-hour ride felt endless, especially in his hot clothing. At last, it was over. He could crawl into the confides of the royal carriage and peel off some of his regalia.   
  
Three weeks he thought. Nearly three entire weeks away from that damnable castle. He hadn't been away from home since his sentencing. The High Council granted him the privilege to travel. His behavioral record had been spotless for twenty-five years outside of the one incident of peeking into his daughter's world. He could feel years of tension melt from his shoulders as he watched the city shrink into the distance.  
  
"Yeah, I'm going to miss the place too" he heard a wistful Dedric say.  
  
Even after the courts found him out and put him on his first trial, he went back. He couldn't stand returning to the faces that now glowered in their confirmation that their young prince did the Darkness' bidding. He fled back to the Aboveground swearing never to return. He found a human woman who shared her ramshackle trailer outside of her city. Together, they spun deeper into their addictions hiding away in abandoned warehouses and buildings, lounging in their mindless stupors.   
  
At last, he was found by the imperial guard that had braved the crossing to bring him home. In his absence, a unicorn foal, the purest of creatures that helped anchor the light to Astrea, had wandered through his portal and was nearly lost to the Aboveground. This was the worst crime he could commit and finally had to pay his dues in full. Mab sentenced him to exile, stripping him of all titles, revoking all of his magical ability, and putting him under Dedric's watch. Outside of formal affairs where he still acted as a sort of figurehead, he was sentenced to stay inside the castle indefinitely.   
  
After suffering months of withdrawal, he discovered that he made another mistake, a mistake that would finally wake him up to the true impact of all his meddling.   
  
Lilian   
  
That's what he called her. Near the end of his trials he had been informed that he had conceived a child with his human partner. He knew what she was like. He knew what kind of home the girl would grow up in. At first he begged, pleaded with the high court to steal the girl away and bring her to him. They denied his request, citing the fact that she carried the curse as we'll and that there was already too much darkness in Astraea.   
  
"Besides," his brother said "you certainly don't have the best track record for responsibility and I have far too much on my plate dealing with your disasters to look over your illegitimate spawn as well."  
  
Reluctantly, he agreed and prayed that the woman would do good with the child. He was never told her name, never saw her face, but finally Marten Gwyndion knew pure, unconditional love and took on his punishments without resistance. He became a servant to his brother and put his whole existence in his hands. After all, what better way to make up for his shortcomings, than to serve the Prince of the Light himself? He was given gold cuffs, shackles tied to a ring his brother wore that would glow anytime he required his assistance.   
  
Still, Marten couldn't resist working one more bit of magic. After seven years of secrecy and asking for help from some unsavory characters, he opened a window into his daughter's world. Helplessly, he watched tears stream down his child's face as her mother unleashed an avalanche of hateful words, words he had heard people say about himself in secret whispers, but never in ear-splitting screams. In a panic, he searched his kingdom and beyond for help. On a stroke of luck, the Goblin King paid his city a visit. He had heard about how he traveled to the Aboveground and stole a unwanted child. He promised Jareth anything and everything if he would just take his daughter someplace safe. The deal was struck and Jareth delivered as promised. A few years later, he managed to peek through one more time. At ten years old, his black-haired girl sat snugly in between a pleasant middle aged couple. The woman was reading, exaggerating her face and voice and making her laugh. The man put an arm around her, and Marten felt a pang in his heart. A least she was safe, safe and so very happy.  
  
His brother found out, jailing his helpers and installing around the clock watchers to make sure he never used magic again.   
  
"Put her far from your mind," his brother said "you're nothing to her and she's perfectly happy with her human parents. Let her live her life."  
  
Since that day, his life had become a regular routine of service to Dedric and he was never out of his sights for long. Dedric liked him close, even when meeting with high officials, Marten stood behind him like some silent, shameful child. Occasionally, he got to enjoy some peace from his brother's presence at formal parties where he was too busy striking trade deals and alliances with other rulers to be bothered.   
  
Marten contemplated all of this as he finished helping his brother dress one last time before the both made their way to the temple to give their final respect.

Soon enough they would depart for the Goblin Kingdom and Marten would have to face a phantom from his past once more.

 

 


	7. To Dream a Little Dream

A few days before the intended arrival point when most of the kingdoms were due to to make their entrances, Jareth had been away from his guests hiding in his observation tower thinking and weaving. Most of his time through the night and early morning had been taken up with the manipulation of the Labyrinth itself which Jareth had the ability to negotiate at will. The business had taken some coaxing. By its own self preserving nature, the Labyrinth was reluctant to shift itself into a pattern that would so expose a path directly to the Goblin City and the castle. but at the end of it the Labyrinth ultimately did bend to the man's will and did as he needed it to do. Jareth also made a point to seal off any ground entrance to the Arid Flats. There the creatures acted differently than the other goblins and the waste area covered in piles of junk were arguably the most dangerous and unpredictable place to be in the Labyrinth. The great houses were told that the area was off limits completely and that anyone who disobeyed would do so at their own peril.  
  
The castle goblins were to take human form similarly to the way they had during Sarah's enchantment but this time they were to be identifiable by the black and gold horned eye masks they wore which could not be removed from their faces. There would be others wearing masks but those could be removed and thus were distinguishable. the goblin were also mute in this form able to laugh but not speak except in silent whispers to each other or to Jareth.  
  
There was another matter to attend to that the goblin king had been putting off.  
  
Every kingdom and specialized grouping of attendees would have a representing party attached to them, usually made up of their families, special servants, or some combination. Although Jareth and Meriel were cousins they ruled different domain and could not stand together. Jareth's own directly family would not be present mostly because Jareth had not asked them to be and because his parents were often deeply engrossed in matters of court and often carrying out emissary assignments for the High Council. Nevertheless, It would be expected that Jareth present some kind of entourage representing his own kingdom.  
  
For the Labyrinth's Royal Guard Magdalene had agreed to stand as there representative. And Hoggle and Jareth beloved personal servant the hobgoblin Tilly-whim would represent the goblin people. Sir Didymus had agreed agreed to escort the Wiseman along with a small party of retired knights made up mostly of intellectual animals also bring half of the Labyrinth Council into attendance. Fidget preferred to remain within the goblin city and Agnes by nature of her loyalties would be present but likely not visible. These individual represented the unique and diverse relationships that existed in the Labyrinth.  
  
But there was a final representation that was perhaps the most important one of all. The unique and intimate relationship between the labyrinth's power and the mortal world. If any other message needed to be expressed and drummed into the memories of everyone in attendance it was that The Goblin kingdom served as a connection point between the above and below and that the old magic dictated that it would and must always serve in that function. It was a reminder of the usually overlooked bigger purpose of Jareth's role as well as his greatest sacrifice.  
  
but this connection point could not be represented by him alone. to have the greatest impact it had to be represented by someone that represented both sides. Therefore it was necessary to have a human representative someone who had lived in the above world and could faithfully represent it. the matter was a sore point for Jareth. A reminder of a deep place within him were he'd buried his longings, his loves, and his deepest regrets.  
  
Sarah. It should have been Sarah.  
  
The knowing burned him through and through with an agonizing ache. The labyrinth should have become her legacy and not just his own. The Labyrinth had wanted her and because it had wanted her so completely and Sarah's own dreams had been so palatable, Jareth had tried to appease them both and failed on all accounts.  
  
He had failed and almost lost himself in the process.  
  
How tempting it had always been to look into her life. for a long time he had been allowed too but eventually he had been wise enough to let the memory of her go. Now he only though on her in moment like this and he only allowed himself to dwell on it for a little while. What a fool he'd been to underestimate her so. It was a mistake he never made again with anyone else.  
  
There was another option of course. In thinking of Sarah, Jareth's thoughts shifted to the strange girl that had appeared in the kingdom. There was something so familiar about her, something that touched him in a place that he dared not look. Even if she'd been drawn into the underground for different reasons the High Council would consider her mortal first due to the amount of time she'd lived above.  
  
Although she likely thought he'd been dismissive towards her before, the truth was he'd simply been contending with more important issues. But now it occurred to him to make a request of this girl. Not a bargain. but a simple request that she had the power to freely deny or accept. He hoped she would accept it. If nothing else it would give Jillian a chance to confront Mim and for Jareth to punish her on both his and the girl's behalf when he caught her.  
  
Jareth sighed and prepared to walk to his observation window but before he could transform and locate Jillian, something that looked like a child of the age of four or five dressed in a pink leotard and tulle ballerina skirt with her blond hair pulled perfectly back into a bun came skipping into the room at top speed only to skip directly at Jareth's leg which he suddenly found her clinging too.  
  
"Good morning, Master Jareth." Despite the appearance the voice coming out of the child mouth was like that of a adult woman, high and graveled with a slight lisp. It would have been frightening to someone not expecting it.  
  
The clinging hug of his most favorite servant comforted Jareth and reminded him of his own humanity.

"Well, Tilly. I take it you are happy with your appearance. Well, I'm very glad." Jareth pried the hobgoblin from his leg and knelled down so that he could hold her in his arms and give her a proper hug.  
  
"You shouldn't worry, Master Jareth. Everything is possible and you are beloved among us all." the Hobgoblin said in a prophetic hush.  
  
"Only within the confines of these walls, my Tilly-Whim. But for today that is enough. Now, go find Hoggle and try to keep him comfortable. I shall need you all to do your very best this time as I know you will. I have someone I need to see before the break of dawn."  
  
Jareth watched the hobgoblin giggle and nod and she parted from him and skipped swiftly away. Jareth smiled to himself like a proud parent. no one could ever say he didn't appreciate his people. but for now he had business to attend to. Jillian was staying with Mag in her home he knew. Mag had already come to the castle to help with final preparations and had informed him of the woman's presence in her home. Being too busy Hoggle had not had a chance to check on her himself which was just as well.

 

~@~

 

The first Several days of Jillian's stay in Mag's household proved surprisingly relaxing even if Jillian's thought's were consumed with her life back in Boston and how her disappearance would be taken. With the exception of her work colleagues there were not many people for Jillian to miss. Her adopted parents were gone. Or rather, Susan had passed and her Husband Dashelle was in a nursing home and  barely knew who he was anymore. They had been good people, if somewhat old to be taking on a ten year old. They'd raised Jillian in a home of dignity and love and had tried their best to instill in her that Jillian was not defined by the shadows of her past and that she had a natural right to be who ever and whatever she wanted to be.

When Susan had died unexpectedly five years later from a heart attack, Dashelle had poured her entire small life insurance policy into a trust fund for Jillian that she'd be able to use for anything she wanted. School, a down payment on a home, a new car...The Andrews both felt it was Jillian's choice. In the end Jillian had frugally used it to buy a used but reliable car when she'd turned sixteen so that she could get to her summer jobs without making Dashelle drive her and later she'd used some to put a down payment on a tiny apartment. Jillian had only just started taking night classes the last year for sales. But outside of Dashelle and her few work colleagues Jillian had no real friends preferring to keep to herself.

Now that she was here in the Underground, her anti-social independence seemed less useful. Jillian thought back on the creatures and people she'd met so far and how so many of them had graciously been willing to help and comfort her without knowing anything about who she was.

Magdalene, for example, had not only put Jillian up, but borrowed her several sets of clothes to wear and had openly allowed her to help about the house when she wasn't reading or being diverted by Dunne's gentle and ambling attempts at conversation. It was touching how Mag took care of the strange man, helping him with his clothes and setting out his meals. At night Dunne preferred to sleep near the fire and Magdalene would often stay up with him late into the night seated on a low arm-less rocker stroking Dunne's sandy air as he slept against her knee like a mother soothing her child.

During the day Mag was frequently busy working in her shop making all kinds of things for her Goblin patrons. During these hours Jillian liked to tuck herself up in the loft and read through the books Mag had borrowed her. One was a hand annotated history of the Labyrinth, another was an illustrated guide to to the Labyrinth's flora and fauna which read more like a collection of fairy-tales, and finally there was a worn book without a label that turned out to be a book of basics on magical theory that included a collection of basic spells, recipes, and enchantments. Jillian liked the second book the best and commonly made notes about the first so that she could discuss aspects of the History with Mag. As for the book of magic Jillian paged through it from time to time but was weary of doing anything more than skimming through the spells and reading the introductions of the recipes that covered what they were used for.

By now Jillian's mind had started to accept, that at least in the underground, magic was a real area of study and practice. Sometimes, when she was drifting off to sleep she contemplated the potentials of such information. Was magic something anyone could learn or did their need to be some kind of prerequisite of birth or predisposition? Jillian was too afraid to try anything more out of fear that something would work, or worse, go terribly wrong. Still, it was sometimes an amusing thought to fancy herself a sorceress. She'd probably be very ill at it indeed, but it was a interesting thought nevertheless.

A few days before the events of the ball were to begin, Magdalene informed Jillian that she would likely be away from home setting up preparations with the Labyrinth knights. Dunne and Jillian were to remain in the house until she returned. In her absence Jillian took over most of the regular cares of fixing their meals and keeping Dunne company.

Settling down the first morning alone together after a breakfast of cold sweetened porridge and buttered rye bread, Jillain put aside one of her books she'd been reading by the fire and tilted her head in Dunne's direction. Similarly to how she'd found him in the maze Dunne was laying straight as a board on the rug in front of the fire with his fingers of his hands entwined over his abdomen as he stared blankly up into the rafters.

"Dunne, how do you know Magdalene?" Jillian asked conversationally.

"Oh...She and I are, friends. There was a time, hard to say when, I had gotten lost outside the Goblin City. I'd forgotten...Everything. How to eat, to walk...It was all...slipping away...The goblins there were...cruel." Dunne paused for a long time and a hollow look came over his features as if his mind were away someplace not particularly happy.

"Dunne...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. You don't need to go on." Jillian said gently, able to read through the lines and imagining he must have experienced something terrible that she now regretted causing him to revisit.

  
"Hm? Oh...I'm sorry. You had asked me something...Oh, oh yes. Anyway at some point Mag found me and took me into her care. She not just a blacksmith, you know. She's also a knight of the realm. A very good one...In fact. Important and kind. I'm glad I thought to bring you here. There is no safer place to be...except...For maybe in the castle itself. Jareth, the man who governs here...He's very good as well. Very good and very..." Dunne seemed to lose his train of thought completely at this point and instead of finishing his sentence he only let it hang in the air between them as he gentle turned onto his side to gaze into the low burning fire. "What are you going to do today?"

"I'm not really sure. Mag wants us to stay in the house until she returns and there's not much to be done around here with all three of us pitching in. Did you have any suggestions?" Jillian asked.

"Well...There is that book on magic you've got. Mag wouldn't have given it to you if she didn't trust you to be able to make proper use of it. We could try some things out with it if you like. You might find you have a talent for sorcery." Though Dunne was often out of his wits there were times he was capable of being quite lucid and focused, it appeared this was to be one of those times.

His periodic clear times reminded Jillian of Dashelle and how there were some days in the nursing home when he was fully lucid and  aware in spite of the fact that a stroke had taken away much of his ability to talk and move independently. During those times he always called Jillian and asked her to come spend the day with him and they'd have a grand time together in their shared familiarity. Though it never lasted more then a day or so, the fact that it happened at all was a blessing in and of itself. For Dunne, his lucid periods seemed to have limited staying power. Half a day at best, but when he was lucid he was pleasant and creative, more keen to experience things than talk about himself.

"Do you really think it's wise?" Jillian question skeptically. "I mean...I don't know anything about real magic."

"All the more reason for you to learn. The  Underground is full of magical beings and things. The Labyrinth in particular is nothing but saturated in magic. The more you understand about these things the safer you'll be. Besides, that's a novice level book anyway. Most of what you'll find in there is what some might call 'Kitchen Magic'." Dunne explained as he settled into a sitting position with his long legs crossed in front on him.

"Do you know any magic?" Jillian found herself asking.

"No...Well, I doubt it at least. I am fair good at some basic slight of hand. You know, card tricks and the like. I'm a bit of a bumbler in general, I think. I'm sure even if I tried to learn, I'd never be able to remember from moment to moment what I was doing so it hardly seems a worthwhile pursuit for me." He said frankly with a shrug.

It was moments like these that Jillian wondered who Dunne had once been and how he'd managed to survive as long as he apparently had in a world that must be utterly dangerous to him.

"Alright, Dunne. You've talked me into it. I'll go get the book while you put the kettle on." Jillian said with a chuckle.

A few minutes later the duo had re-positioned themselves at the dining table. Jillian had handed over the book at Dunne's request realizing he had decided to take it upon himself to play tutor. While Jillian sat, Dunne remained on his feet looking like a theatrical actor with his expressive way of emphasizing his speech through his sweeping physical gestures.

"Now. The very first thing to know about magic is that it is more or less just like the sciences. There are any number of categories one could explore and almost all of it deals in some way with the manipulation of existing things. In it's higher forms magic can also create and destroy, but it can never create from nothing or destroy without consequence. Magic does not discriminate nor is it inherently good or evil, people on the other had can be discriminating and their intentions colored. So whenever possible, never judge the enchantment. Only judge the enchanter." Dunne advised. 

"You know...For someone who doesn't use magic you're pretty convincingly knowledgeable about these things." Jillian Quipped.

"I'm a native of a magical land, young Madam. Being convincing is the next best thing to being the real thing. Now lets see. What's an easy one." Dunne began to expertly page through the book with the tips of his fingers as he held it like a choir singer. "Ah. Here."

Snapping the book closed he set it down and looked about the room. Seeing what he wanted, Dunne set off to collect his supplies. When he returned to the table he had a small bowl of salt in his arms, a shallow wooden bowl and a flower pot that had come from one of the window sills. 

"Remember how I said the Labyrinth is saturated with magic? Well that means so is everything in it. Just about any natural element can be used as a tool and some are more valuable then others. Now, see this flower? It hasn't bloomed yet but we're going to see if you can convince it to." Dunne took a moment to set the potted plant in front of her and then the bowls of salt and water to the side of it.

"What do I do?" Jillian asked by no means actually expecting the experiment to work.

"It's quite elementary. All you need to do is wet a few of your fingers in the water and coat them lightly with salt. There. Just like that. Good. Now look at the rose head and in your mind ask it politely to bloom and stroke down the side of the flower head with your charged fingers. The water helps to open a channel and the salt charges the charm." Dunne explain. "Go on now."

Jillian looked from Dunne to the flower head and after a few seconds tried to school her face into a determined expression. Concentrating with all her effort she politely asked the flower to blossom and in her mind's eye imagined it doing so. A tantalizing minute of suspense came and went and soon Jillian let out the breath she'd been holding disappointed in spite of herself that nothing had happened. 

"Maybe magic isn't my thing." Jillian muttered with a sigh looking up at Dunne.

"Oh never mind. These things take time and practice. Keep at it and eventually I'm sure you'll see." Dunne reassured her warmly.

"I'm sure your right. But for now I think I'll leave the magic to his Majesty." Jillian pushed the bowls away and got up with a sigh. "Come on, Dunne. I'll fix us some tea."

Dunne lucidity lasted most of the evening revealing that the man liked very much to read. Being a knight, Magdalene kept a well stocked if small library in the hovel which included a few leather bound copies of old English and Irish poetry. Dunne and Jillian spent the rest of their evening settled before the fire reading various interesting things to each other and sharing a dinner of biscuits, grapes and sharp cheese. Sooner than Jillian would have preferred though his sharpness of mind began to fade and by the time the sun had set Dunne had returned to his quietly addled self. The easy smiles slipping away to be replaced with his typical flat turned down expression.

To comfort the both of them until she knew Dunne was asleep for the night, Jillian rocked in the low rocker humming a nonsensical tune. Her poor friend seemed so vulnerable and delicate in his sleep and it made Jillian's heart bleed for him as she eventually left him in front of the smoldering fire and climbed into the loft to put herself to bed. At Dunne's earlier insistence, Jillian had brought the flower pot to bed with her and had even briefly sat for half an hour practicing the blooming charm in bed, but once again she was met with no results. 

"Well...Never mind. Today was a good day anyway, all things considered." Jillian remarked to herself as she fluffed her pillow and settled into the hay filled mattress resting on the loft's floor.

As she drifted off to sleep she found herself wondering if there was anything that could be done for her new friend. She told herself that if she ever got an audience with the Goblin King again she would bring up the subject. Even if nothing could be done for the strange kind Dunne, Jillian felt that Jareth could at least ensure that the man lived a life that was safe and comfortable instead of the reality of what he presently experienced when he wasn't under the watchful and protective wing of Magdalene's keeping.

Jillian allowed herself to drift off to sleep soon after this thought and as she slipped deeper into her repose she began to dream.

Jillian's dreams were often vivid and almost always unpleasant, tonight was going to be no exception.

As with most of her nightmares, Jillian found herself transported back into her early childhood when she'd be living with her biological mother in New York. The apartment they'd lived in had been a dirty outdated one bedroom on the fifth floor of an equally dirty and outdated building. Her nightmares were almost always staged somewhere in the apartment. Jillian's nostrils filled with familiar and terrible scents. The apartment had a noxious mixture of harsh tobacco and a mix of patchouli oil and lavender incense. The smell saturated everything in the apartment with its overbearing musk. In the world of her dreams the odor was suffocating and oppressive. A monster in and of itself.

Jillian's bed was a neatly kept children's mattress on the floor. Weirdly the beds were the one thing Jillian's young mother Arianna had always kept pristine and neat. So neat that she got angry with Jillian if her little bed wasn't perfectly made at all times even when Jillian was sleeping in it. On her best days Arianna would lax this rule and even tuck her daughter in and take the time to read her stories while she sat by her daughter's bedside. On her average days, Jillian had learned to sleep on the surface of the made bed using whatever fabric looked the cleanest to stay warm. Sometimes it was discarded bathroom towel, sometimes it was a lap blanket Arianna absently had left in the main room after she'd gone to bed. Sometimes it was nothing at all. Finally, on her worst days Jillian had avoided sleeping in her bed at all and would take to climbing into the empty cabinet under the sink to sleep where she could remain out of sight of her mother and avoid her drug induced mania and obsessive ravings which often included obsessive cleaning and an absolute emotional meltdown.

During these episodes Jillian was safe as long as she remained out of her mother's sight, but if she made a mistake or didn't catch the signs fast enough the night would become a torturous experience. 

"Why can't you EVER keep yourself clean, you little monster? Do you see this? I JUST washed these. I JUST WASHED THEM. Take everything off. Now. I SAID, NOW. ALL OF IT. It's cold? Well tough. You're just going to have to deal with it. God, sometimes I don't know why the fuck I even let you be born. I never wanted to be a mother. And don't you dare cry or I swear I'll really give you something to cry about."

The dream shifted and for a second and Jillian's mind swam as if something was swiftly lifting her up up and away. The feeling of fluttering feathers against her cheeks momentarily soothed her until the bottom dropped out and she felt like she was free falling back into the apartment and back into another terrible fantasy. Jillian knew what this one was and she hated it most of all. Though her mother wasn't present exactly it was the overwhelming terror to escape that over came her. Jillian's mother almost never allowed her daughter into her bedroom. Arianna may have been a deeply troubled young woman, but when it came to her daughter she did at least have enough sense to avoid exposing Jillian to her exact activities which included a rather extensive heroine habit and the prostitution she utilized to support it.

Arianna worked as well when she could get around the drug testing, but she rarely held her waitress jobs very long and eventually she became more and more dependent on her John's for a stable income. Arianna always tried to entertained her John's outside the apartment as much as possible but now and then, usually because she wanted to use, she brought her work home with her. These times were always the most terrifying for Jillian who would huddle shaking in her bed out in the living room with here unbelievably large eyes trained on her mother's closed bedroom door. The rule Arianna had formed with her daughter was that the door to the bedroom was always to remain closed and that if Jillian ever saw it open or opening she was to to run out of the apartment and hide until Arianna came looking for her.

This particular dream was always the same.

Young Jillian would be surrounded by darkness with only the light outlining the gaps of her mother's bedroom door, caught in dread she would dutifully stare at the closed rectangle straining herself to be aware of every sound and every sign of movement. As she stared the light of the door frame began to glow red and cold horror, the likes only a child could feel, washed over Jillian as the door handle began to rattle and turn. And that's when everything in Jillian's dream world slowed down while her terror flowed fast as she gave into her instinct to run for the front door. And that's where the nightmare always reached its horrifying climax. No matter how fast she moved and how badly she wanted to flee her movements were painfully slow and her small body only grew heavier preventing her a timely  escape.

All the while the unknown threat behind the bedroom door loomed and the red light behind the door began to intensify. As the unbearable panic threatened to drive her insane with fear, all Jillian could think about was how she wanted to hide if she couldn't escape. If only she could throw her bed blanket over herself or alternatively climb into the safe cool haven of the cabinet under the sink. All she wanted with all her might was to be safe. The dream was always the same. Until it suddenly wasn't. Jillian felt something soft begin to pull her backwards back into the space of her dream bed. As the seconds went by the soft pulling feeling was all around her. Cool, soft, heavy atop her form.

Jillian felt a soft kind of weight pressing into her body not oppressive but still all engulfing creating a kind of thready obscurity over her vision that disrupted the terrible red glow. Her eyes remained trained on the bedroom door, but eventually the horrifying red glow began to soften and slowly change in hue from red to green the terrible suffocating smell of the apartment also began to fade replaced by a softer more comforting floral smell. Exhausted Jillian gave into the cool braiding embrace and for once in her sleep all was cool, clean, and peaceful for the remainder of her repose.

  
  


 


	8. Before Morning's First Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elspeth and Sayer were created by 'Fear of the Female Planet" over at Roleplayergatway.com as part of the related storyline. The segement including these character was written by her and will be continued by me in later chapters of this fic.

The depth of Jillian's remaining sleep was restful and rejuvenating enough to cause her to awaken somewhat early than she otherwise would have. First morning's light hadn't even begun yet and the Labyrinth was still shrouded in night's darkness. Jillian murmured half asleep and she stretched in her bed and tried to turn onto her side. She may have gone back to sleep after that had it not been for the fact that as she tried to turn she found the act difficult as something smooth and soft brushed against her face. Moving again Jillian felt something similar brush against her exposed toes only this time the was the slight prick of something also that roused her more fully awake. Pulling her toes further under the blanket, Jillian began to pull her arms out from under the blanket and open her eyes. As they adjusted, she caught a glimpse of something in the moon light that caused her to bolt upright and slap her hands over her mouth.

The force of this movement caused whatever had been obstructing her movement to suddenly give, allowing her to mostly sit up. Reaching for the oil lamp that was resting near the bed Jillian struck a match and lit the oil wick turning up the lamp to flood the space with light.

“What in high Hell?” She muttered to herself as her eyes went wide with surprise, but not alarm.

The entire surface of the mattress including the ares around her shoulders and pillow were covered with a tangled mass of roses, many in full bloom. The soft tangle of stems, leaves and thrones had created a kind blanketing effect that had likely completely cover Jillian in her bed. Trying to find the source of the beautiful but strange mess, Jillian looked about the room and bed finally noticing that the flower pot she'd brought into the loft was now on it's side and the whole thing had seemed to come from the small planted rose that she and Dunne had experimented with the day before.

“How? Did I do this?” Jillian asked herself out loud careful to keep her voice down.

All evidence suggested so.

Though Jillian didn't know enough about magical theory to logically explain what had happened, she somehow knew that it wasn't something to be afraid of in this instance. The plant growth wasn't harmful to her, only surprising. Wiggling her way backwards out from under the flowery blanket, Jillian got to her feet and tried to think about what she should do with the mess. The pot would certainly be inadequate now to maintain the climbing rose bush and Jillian hated to try and rip it up. Thinking awhile Jillian decided to gather as much of it up as possible and dangle it out the loft window. There was a planter on the outside that she could transfer the plant's roots into later once the sun came up and she could properly see what she was doing. She also made a mental note to speak to Magdalene's about the incident when she returned from her errand at the castle.

Not wanting to sleep anymore but also not wanting to disturb Dunne too much, Jillian carefully made her way down to the main floor. Dunne, as she expected, was curled up in front of the fire looking almost tragically beautiful in his repose. Jillian shook her head and drew up the blanket more fully around him then stoked the fire just enough to bring it back to life without cause Dunne to overheat in front of it. Satisfied she shivered from her own chill and slipped one of Mag's cloaks around her shoulders. The sun would be up soon enough. 

For lack of anything else to do Jillian decided that since she was awake so early she might take in the morning sunrise. The Underground sky was different then what she was used to in Boston. More colors could bee seen throughout the day and there were rarely many clouds in the sky. The double sun, one yellow, and a smaller red one, was also interesting to see.

  
Magdalene's home was situated on the higher end of the Goblin City close to the castle wall. This afforded for a stunning view of much of the Goblin City farther down as well as a fair good view of the gated entrance and part of the Labyrinth itself. Though the first sun hadn't risen yet the sky had lightened enough to begin to see the outlines of the great maze. Wrapping her cloak more firmly around her Jillian opened one of the latch window panes and looked out across the expanse.

Jillian often liked to look out over the maze from the window, still finding it hard to believe where she was or the fact that she'd walked so far with Hoggle to get to the Goblin City. Jillian knew she would have never been able to find it on her own and there was no telling what might have happened had Hoggle not happened upon her when he had. Jillian hoped the dwarf would keep his word and come visit her soon. Jillian would have liked to thank him. Climbing up onto a low stool she set herself in the frame of the window sill. The early morning was only somewhat chill and the air was filled with notes of hay, animal, and hints of florals.

When Jillian's gaze finally settled over the Labyrinth proper that lay beyond the Goblin City she heard herself emit a small gasp. The maze had shifted in the night and not just in small ways. Rather, whole areas of the Labyrinth wall had been altered from the point of the main gates outward as far as she could see. Possibly all the way down to the main entrance to which she had entered through with Hoggle when she'd first arrived. The effect created a terribly unnatural looking walled path that seemed to lead directly to the Goblin City cutting through even the junk strewn Arid Flats.

It felt somehow alarming to Jillian, to say the least.

"It's absolutely garish, I do agree." A familiar voice said as if anticipating her thoughts, about two feet away from the outer edge of the window sill.

Jareth had a way of seemingly just being there suddenly in the presence of people. Half the time it was simply that people didn't notice him right away. But more times than not his arrival went unnoticed because that he didn't wish to be seen immediately which was almost the same thing.  
  
"I think you would not be surprised by how much effort it took me to get the maze to formulate that pattern. Not surprisingly its very sticky about matters of its own defense." Jareth was leaning his back into the wall just next to the window sill Jillian was sitting in, with his arms crossed as he looked out along with her over his maze still rather bemused that he'd convinced the labyrinth to open itself up the way it had. It was perhaps the first time in centuries, if ever, that the maze had such a obvious and direct path running through it.  
  
Jillian jumped with a squeak and grasped the window frame's edges to keep from falling back and onto the floor.  
  
"There is a perfectly functioning door to this house, you know..." Jillian pointed out disaprovingly. “You scared me almost out of my wits just appearing like that.”

She had been warbed by Mag that the man had quite the knack for appearing out of the blue, but she never expected to receive such a visitation.

“What are you doing here anyway?” She demanded to know finding it rather strange for him to show up when she was conveniently awake and alone so early in the morning.

“I wanted to talk to you.” Jareth said bluntly.  
  
The fact that he began to talk to her so casually took her by surprise.

 

“Well isn't that nice. I'm glad to see my presence her hasn't competently escaped your attentions. What exactly do you want to talk to me about now of all times?”

Jareth didn't answer her as he remained against the wall looking slightly unhappy as he stared out over the Labyrinth.

In spite of her temptation to be annoyed with him, Jillian sensed that something was perhaps bothering the strange man and decided to take a more sympathetic approach.

“The maze doesn't seem right with that path running through it.” Jillian remarked.

“No. Indeed, it isn't. But under the circumstances, I have little choice in the matter.” Jareth muttered.

“You are the King here, right? Why not just put it back the way it was?” Jillian asked.

“I would, but come the morning visitors are enviably going to arrive. There is to be an important event coming to the castle to which I find myself in the unfortunate position of having to host.” Jareth explained cryptically.

“Really? How interesting.” Jillian remarked flatly.  
  
The tension she felt coming off the Goblin King was palpable enough that Jillian began to grow uneasy with him standing there. Refusing to feel intimidated she tried to shake it off.  
  
"You know...You can come in if you want to and talk about whatever you came here to say." Jillian reminded him.

  
The familiarity of her face caught him off guard momentarily when he turned his head to look at her.

Those eyes. How familiar they felt to him.  
  
“No. Thank you but I can't linger overlong. I'm...Tired and what I have to say won't take very long.” Jareth replied.

“Oh. OK. Well...” Jillian was struggling to think of anything else to say.

“I hope you've found your time with Magdalene comfortable enough. She's one of the few humans that live here in the Labyrinth. I'm sorry to say there hasn't been any sign of that despicable creature of a fairy Mim.” Jareth remarked. “I have every confidence however that she will show up for the upcoming festivities.”

“It hasn't been so bad. All things considered. I'm grateful for Mag's hospitality even if I understand very little about anything that been happening. While I of course just want to go home...Being here has been...Something. I imagine she isn't very happy with you, the Labyrinth I mean. A friend of mine told me everything here is saturated with magic, it seems to me that means just about everything has a mind of its own as well.” Jillian remarked off handedly.  
  
Jareth noted silently how Jillian had referred to the Labyrinth as a her. Was it possible that she had such an instinctual understanding of the moods and personality of the great maze? While it was possible, it was also very unusual for a human being. Jareth also noted that Jillian had a different feel to her than when they'd first met. She had the feel of magic about her that usually only came with being in the underground for a long time. It almost felt like Jillain was one of them instead of like an outside intruder. Such adaptability and calibration to the Underground and the the Goblin Kingdom was surprising in such a short amount of time. It was almost as if she'd been born to there world despite every superficial indication to the contrary.  
  
The familiarity he felt towards her also caught Jareth off guard once more.

While he was accustomed to dropping in on people as if they were already in the middle of a conversation, with Jillian it somehow felt like a conversation between them had been interrupted. A conversation that Jareth felt like we was trying to reconnect to without remembering what the original dialogue had been.  
  
"She is a trifle unhappy with me to be sure.” Jareth agreed refering to the Labyrinth's core spirit. “But in the end the end she knows perfectly well that I serve her first above anyone else."

He said this with a strange kind of vexation and then changed the subject.

"I see that you've made friends as most people like yourself are apt to do in this place...But I do believe I still owe you some consideration as a guest in my kingdom that I perhaps had not thought to extend to you before. To this end I would like very much if you would consider joining my private party during the ongoing festivities over the next few days." Jareth tried to ask casually but since he really did need her to agree there was a tinge of urgency in the request.  
  
"Mim will be required to be there and the benefit of you being in my party means we will both have our chance to deal with her together since she's taken it upon herself to meddle with us both simultaneously." Jareth debated the wisdom of telling her more then this but ultimately he figured it would be better if she understood that by agreeing to his request she was taking on a role of some importance.

“Was that a request or a command?” Jillian asked defensively. “Look I appreciate that Mim is going to be at this thing your talking about, but I'm not a hundred percent clear what it actually is, let alone why you'd want me there. Wouldn't it be easier for me to just stay here until you capture her and your events are concluded?”  
  
"There's something else...I'm asking this of you as a personal favor to the kingdom if not to me. The labyrinth has always served as a connection point between our worlds. It's my duty to faithfully represent that union in my party. For all intents and purposes you are currently the best representative I could ask for to stand in for the Above. Will you agree to join my party and stand up with me when needed? It's very important and it must be your choice. I won't insist."

Jillian considered the man a moment wondering at his attitude which seemed to flow from one kind of feeling to another. On one hand he was clearly a formidable person and by all accounts a very powerful figure, but as he stood there now he look world-weary and worried. What kind of man was he really? Was he even a man at all?

“What kind of function is it and what would I be expected to do?” Jillian asked carefully.

“Its a kind of Ball and diplomatic function. Every hundred years a kingdom in the Underground is assigned the duty of hosting the event.” He explained. “All you need to do is attend as a guest of my party. Hoggle and Magdalene will stand with you and help you through the formalities if you agree.”

“You don't seem very happy about the matter...” Jillian observed.

“Yes. That would be because I'm not happy about it. Nevertheless I have little choice in the matter.” Jareth confessed.  
  
“Well, I suppose if Hoggle and Mag are going to be there and you insist I'll be able to confront Mim...” Jillian sighed.  
  
She felt slightly apprehensive about facing Mim again mostly because she wasn't sure if the woman was entirely at fault for her presence in the labyrinth. After reading about the usual methods that people had used to arrive to the Underground, Jillian wondered what had actually caused her to cross over into the world of Faerie. Sure, for all intents and purposes the signs pointed to the idea that Mim had facilitated the trip, but there was still the possibility that there was another explanation.  
  
"I'd be honored, I guess." Jillian said after a long moment of consideration. “Count me in.”

“Thank you.” Jareth said with quiet sincerity. “I'm sorry, but I must leave you now. Magdalene will return sometime this morning and answer any questions you may have as well as help you prepare. I really do appreciate your cooperation in this matter. On behalf of the Goblin Kingdom, again, I thank you.”

Backing up Jareth gave Jillian a respectful bow and before she knew what was happening he had transformed into a white barn away and from his perch along a post near the side of the building took flight.  


~@~

 

As morning began to blossom across the underground and many of the far off Kingdom's began to make their journey from all corners of the Underground, the news of where the High Council had chosen for the Centennial Ball to be hosted was just beginning to reach the farthest corners of their world. This included the Golden Sky Kingdom of the Empyrean.

The castle was far too high over the clouds to ever experience anything except for the brightest sunshine during the day or the starriest dark at night. It looked below on rain and lightning, on snow and thunder, even the occasional cyclone that passed by The Land of Oz.  
  
Elspeth looked downward from the white windows, her skin showing yellow-white in the light as the moon traded places with the sun. She hadn't enjoyed her recent coronation celebrations as much as she'd hoped to; after all, the circumstances of being crowned The High Empyrean weren't pleasant. Her father had been sick for some time and her mother had only recently died suddenly. They spoke to her for hours on end about ruling and the considerations that must be made while doing so. Some of it she understood, and some of it she really didn't... but, perhaps those questions were supposed to be cleared up as time passed on. Her father had once wisely told her that not all leaders knew the right answers, and that it was only natural to be wrong at least every once in a while.  
  
The door knocked. Elspeth smoothed down her long white tunic and turned to face the noise.  
  
"Elspeth?" Her cousin Sayer called, as he opened the huge wooden door and stepped just a pace inside her outer apartment. "Your guests are looking for you. You must come now."  
  
She nodded and put a hand on a nearby table stalling for time.

"But, Sayer. I'm busy," she said through a sigh, bringing her fingernails up to investigate them. "There's much that needs to be done before we depart from the palace."  
  
"I'd anticipated you saying that," he said sing-songily, pointing a finger at her. Behind his back he pulled out a flask. "Which is why I made sure you weren't going to miss out on the blackberry mead that was sent up from Below."  
  
Elspeth's face lit up. Of all the fruit located far away on 'The Ground', blackberries were her favorite. "Oh, thank you, Si!" she said brightly. "How considerate and kind of you."  
  
He pulled up a chair and grinned as he flicked his blonde hair out of his bright eyes.

"Don't mention it," he said as he pulled two cups from the center of the table and poured the contents of the flask within. He raised his cup into the air, nodding in a faux-worship manner. "'My Empyrean!'For nothing of this world shines such as you.'"  
  
Elspeth rolled her eyes and took a sip of the mead. Its sweet tones aired gently through her nose. That had to be 'Queen Bee Honey' bonding the flavor together... and there was only one place such honey came from.

"This came from The Enchanted Forest," she remarked astutely.  
  
"Aye," he affirmed. "The Knights of the Labyrinth send this to you, with their blessings."  
  
Elspeth's face fell just slightly. "Even Jareth?"  
  
Sayer stopped suddenly.

"Why, yes," he admitted. Why didn't he just say something else? Sayer asked himself. Elspeth would have accepted a lie. "Jareth also dispatched this, I suppose. He is a Knight of the Realm along with being the Goblin King. "  
  
Elspeth stared at her glass for a long moment, then finally opted to drink the whole thing down in one attempt.

"That was the finest thing he's ever done for anyone," she added wryly referring to the offerings that had been sent presumably by Jareth or his people in honor of her coronation.”

Elspeth dabbed a white cloth to her lips to soak up any leftover purple-gold liquid. "I'm most concerned about this."  
  
Sayer tilted his head and sighed, disappointed in his cousin's attitude.

"You are truly fixated on serving Jareth justice," he said resignedly. "It's all you talk about."  
  
"What he did all those years ago with that..that...human girl...was dangerous," Elspeth insisted darkly, pulling the white window frames off of their latches and shutting them against the sky for the morning.  
  
Sayer lit a candle, and casually walked about the room, connecting the small flame to lanterns intended to illuminate the large room.

"I rather like Jareth," he volunteered with a grin. "Never much of a man for combat. But his sense of humor is far better than yours. Don't forget that in our youth he and I were quite good friends. I dare say I know his character far better than you do and I think you're being a bit unreasonable in your prejudice towards him."  
  
Elspeth offered him a sharp glare.

"As long as Jareth is still permitted to conduct his activities in the fashion he does, the Undergound and the realms among it just isn't safe," she rattled for what must have felt like the eighteenth time.

Elspeth was old enough to remembered the havoc caused when Sarah Williams was brought into their world. Sarah was a lovely girl by all account of those who had the means to spy upon the Goblin Kingdom and it strange magical dealings. From what Elspeth had heard from her many reliable sources she could atmire the human girl's tenacity and headstrong nature especially in regards to Jareth who had a fierce and formidable reputation for both his magical trickery and his character. All in all, it wasn't Sarah that she blamed in the business and the effects the matter had on those outside the Goblin Kingdom. She did however utterly blamed Jareth for the scare, for the terror, the girl's presence had ignited among the people of the Golden sky Kingdom of the Empyrean.  
  
"Patience," Sayer said as he set the candle down and stood in front of the table. He patted the hilt of his sword and nodded to her. "We don't know for certain that the arrival of the human girl had any connection to the plague that took the lives of so many of the Empyrean people including members of our family. Perhaps when I finish my investigation into the matter you'll have your chance to make your case. But in the meantime, I've got a door to watch and you've got to get rest for your first day as Empyrean."  
  
Elspeth smiled feebly at her older cousin. She did feel tired.

"Thank you, Si," she offered quietly. "See you in a few hours."   
  
Later that day Elspeth's white and gold robes flew behind her like fire in the wind as she sped unattended through the old halls of the castle. Her strong jaw was stiff and her eyes blazed ahead, burning amber with frustration.  
  
Her hands pushed the door to her counsel chambers, the wood banging against the stone wall. Sayer and a small group of elderly wise men were gathered around a large table studying a map and a letter. They all looked up at her when she entered.  
  
"When were you planning to discuss the nature of a certain invitation to The Goblin City?" she fumed.

Elspeth stood before them and folded her bare arms as she noticed the invitation itself laying flat on the table.  
  
"Your Grace, we were—" one white-bearded adviser attempted.  
  
"This is unacceptable!" she pitched, staring each man directly in their eyes as she studied their faces. "Under no circumstances is a dispatch from The Underground ever to be circulated like this before I am consulted."  
  
No one said anything. Not even Sayer, as he stood quietly at the table for the duration of the long silence. Elspeth's angry stare wasn't helping.

"Your Grace?" he finally stated politely.  
  
She shot him a nearly-poisonous glance. "Keeper?" she responded, opting to call him by his formal court title rather than the nickname she'd given him as a child.   
  
"If you'd like to have a word with me about the developments, I'd be happy to provide you with the latest news," he volunteered smoothly.  
  
She eyed him stoically before nodding. He was giving her a way to save face after what he must have perceived to be a breach in politeness.

"Please wait outside in the hall until you are summoned," she managed calmly to the four older men. They wordlessly exited, their footsteps and the shutting of the door was the only noises heard for several seconds.  
  
Sayer let out a long sigh. "Elspeth, you certainly have a way with words," he mused aloud with a broad smile. "You've no idea how nervous you've made them. What's got you so rattled beyond recognition?"  
  
She wanted to laugh. She did. But there was pressing business. "What's this that I hear about a Centennial ball being set to be hosted in the Goblin Kingdom?" she inquired directly.

To-the-point. As always. Sayer thought admirably.

“It's the High Council of the Underground. They've called that the Centennial Ball be hosted by Jareth and he's agreed.” It wasn't as if Jareth had much of a choice in the matter Sayer knew. But he thought it better not to bring up the point.

“Is it true you've already accepted the invitation?” Elspeth demanded.  
  
Sayer nodded. "Yes, we're certianly attending.” He said simply, smiling as he offered Elspeth the invitation from the table.  
  
She reached out a small hand and took it quickly, reading it over and inspecting every inch of it. "Why were we invited?" she asked aloud. "I've never been there. To The Underground, I mean. Why would I want to go?"

“The Empyean Kingdom has always participated in the Centennial Ball. It's expected that all eligible kingdoms capable of being extended the honor attend. The Labyrinth and the Goblin Kingdom as a whole is a unique place in our world," he assured her. "Trust me when I say that it's better to visit it as an honored guest than as an unwelcome visitor."  
  
She shook her head. "I can't go down there," she insisted. "Not after what's happened."  
  
Sayer gestured toward one of the ornate wooden chairs in the middle of the room.

"Please?" he offered with a smile, indicating that he wanted her to sit down. "I'd like to discuss this with you."  
  
Elspeth wove her way toward the chair and politely stood by it, gesturing similarly to another chair beside her.

"What is there to discuss?" she asked mildly, her eyes betraying the frenzy ensuing in her mind.  
  
Sayer nodded as they both took their respective chairs. "The Centennial Ball is a tradition," he said. "Your parents used to attend habitually with great affection."  
  
"Was it always held in The Goblin City?" she asked with staid curiosity.  
  
He shook his head. "No, it's a revolving honor that is betowed by the High Council after careful consideration for what would be in the best interest of every other eligible kingdom in the Underground. If you care to dredge through our own history the ball was held in our very own Golden Palace of the Empyrean before you were born. I remember. I was a very small child when it took place."  
  
Elspeth shook her head. "Si, I don't think attending will be appropriate given the Goblin King's disgraced relationship with my Kingdom." she spoke bluntly in an attempt to be commanding.  
  
Sayer rolled his eyes. "You're never willing to provide details about Jareth's apparent offense against you outside of the Sarah Williams incident," he observed tacitly.  
  
"The plague," she fired back quietly, "the plague is what-"  
  
"That was never proven," Sayer volleyed in return, "and you know it. Why do you despise Jareth so much? You've never even met him in person."  
  
Her eyes blinked glossily at him for several seconds. "No, I've never met him in person," she confirmed. "Nevertheless, I know all that I need to know about him and his ways."  
  
Sayer sighed. "You really ought to be focused on finding someone to spend the rest of your life with that you don't constantly find yourself wanting to throw off the Skybridge," he chastised. "That is far more important than your vendetta against Jareth. Since the death of your beloved parents you've been conducting the Kingdom's business in an orderly, fair, and honorable fashion. Today you're simply not being yourself."  
  
Elspeth bristled and opened her mouth to say something, but caught herself and held back. She paused as she looked at him.

"You're right," she quietly stated, her eyes looking out at the golden sky through the huge pane of glass positioned at the front of the room. It was no use trying to get Sayer on her side. The real story was much too embarrassing. "There are plenty more important things to consider now."

She cast a look back at her cousin. "And you're right. The Empyrean would look silly if it wasn't in attendance." She looked down at her own hands. "Maybe you should go on ahead of me.You always talk about how you're so fond of Jareth I'm sure he would welcome your arrival with an open hand."  
  
Sayer laughed catching her begrudging tone and it's implications.

"Oh, I see what this is. You actually suggest that I'm trying to force you to go to this event so that I can spend time with my comrade in The Underground?" he quipped. "Your sense of humor sometimes is amazing, Elspeth."  
  
She cracked a smile.

"I do what I can," she chirped.

"In all seriousness I do want you to go on ahead and prepare things for my arrival. If I'm going to be forced into going to this thing I want to be as comfortable as possible. And Sayer, nothing you say is going to make me guarantee that I'll have a good time no matter how much you manage to grease the way for me."  
  
Sayer laughed again.

"That's all right," he assured, "having a good time is never anyone's primary purpose or mission at a event such as this. These events are tedious and silly but their also necessary and potentially very important to the Kingdoms that attend."

He sighed introspectively. "Personally, I do lament that it's being held in The Goblin City. I'm sure their local women are absolutely hideous," he added with a twinkle in his eye.  
  
Elspeth laughed through her nose in spite of herself.

"Si, you never have a shortage of things to say." She muttered fondly.  
  
He smiled and stood from his seat.

“Sometimes I find it hard to understand why we must bother with relations with any of the ground Kingdoms. It's not as if they have anything we need.” Elspeth said naively.

"I hate to disagree with you Elspeth, but I must insist that we maintain relations with other kingdoms on The Ground whether you like the idea or not," he said resignedly. "If our positions were reversed, you are educated enough to advise that anyone in your position do the same."  
  
She also stood.

"Well, I suppose I'll have to decide which masks to bring." she thought aloud. "Not to mention what the devil to attend the ball in."  
  
Sayer shrugged. "As long as I don't have to wear a dress, you can pick what you like," he sighed. "Just remember your mask. Proper Empyrean protocol must be observed at all times once you are away." 

 


	9. First Arrivals

There was only a few days left before the Ball was to begin and Jareth had spent most of his time leading up to those last days weaving powerful magic. A task that had been all consuming, cumbersome, and draining on the man's abilities. Most of the castle would be off limits and the rooms and spaces that were to be made available were built on illusion. Queen Mab would expect no less from him and the magic he was employing was as much for her benefit and scrutiny than anything. The hardest part would be enchanting the rest of the castle Goblins because it required Jareth to divide his attentions between playing host and maintaining the spell. If he tried to do both at once the energy required would be too taxing. Instead Jareth had to craft a slow spell that he could pour a surplus of his magical energies into ahead of time and that would last the duration of everyone's stay.  
  
The entire process was complicated and exhausting and while he was working on it he refused to give audience even to his Goblins. The task of making smaller preparations had fallen on Hoggle's shoulders. Unknown to most outsiders, when Jareth was busy the general maintenance of the Labyrinth fell to Hoggle who handled his duties with uncharacteristic authority. Indeed, despite their strange dynamic Jareth was entirely grateful to have Hoggle in his service and entirely planned to reward the man for his effort as soon as the festivities were through. Jareth was actually quite fond of rewarding his people whenever possible, he just usually did it discreetly.   
  
RSVP's were coming in from all over the Underground. But Jareth didn't have time to concern himself just then with the political and social ramifications of who was to attend.  
  
He did make an exception to this rule when, one morning, the great hall's door blew open and a cascade of golden sand poured forth into the hall urged on by a wind that smelled strongly of cinnamon, jasmine, and cloves. Jareth who had been sitting upon his throne half in repose looking haggard and ill, sighed to himself as he was startled from his disgruntle semi-sleep.

 

So...Scheherazade was come at last.   
  
Scheherazade was one of the women of Legend. Granted eternal life for her contributions to the world of Faerie and beyond. Besides ruling over her own domain she was also the primary emissary of Queen Mab herself. Yet she was not exclusively bound by Mab's will alone and was free to act on her own accord.  
  
Her arrival in the Goblin Kingdom was accented by beautiful and exotic music as well as a dry rain of gilded sand that sparkled gold. The sand would no doubt be gathered up by the various labyrinth denizens and added to the wine vats and breads, or gathered in small bags and traded for other goods. It was a personal blessing from Scheherazade as she road cross legged upon the opulent and over sized magical carpet with her entourage. Scheherazade would see to it that there was feasting in the kingdom that night to reward the goblins who would halt their work and spend the rest of the day and night celebrating in the streets prior to their pending duties.  
  
When it was time for Scheherazade to finally make her entrance into the great hall some of the sand that had spilled transformed and her arrival was preceded directly by and entourage of beautiful dusky dancers draped in eastern finery and other servants and entertainers. Some wearing the bound sign of indentured service. Finally Scheherazade was carried into the hall on a cushioned box and set down in the center of the hall by her menacing Jinn protectors.  
  
"Ah, Scheherazade. Your mastery of dramatics puts my own flare to shame." Jareth muttered with tired respectful air of amusement.  
  
"You flatter me, Aziz-am. I have come to provide you with some respite and my company." Zade was a dark beauty draped in red and gold rimmed scarves.  
  
"I'm grateful. You are, of course, the first to arrive and I am glad of it." Jareth was relieved.  
  
"I have brought my children to help with your preparations. Certainly Queen Mab would not wish for you to so exhaust yourself upon her account. So from now until the start of the upcoming festivities you are to rest and recuperate your strength." Zade' commanded as she stood before his throne and bowed deeply, more as a sign that Jareth was to agree with her than of her own obedience to decorum.   
  
"I suppose I should have expected your support." Jareth remarked almost apologetically.  
  
"Oh, Aziz-am. You are too close to your causes. It is rare I have seen such dedication by someone who is as much a prisoner as he is a servant." A large cushion was brought to Zade' so that she could sit beside him as the others entertained them.  
  
"I've never regretted my internment here, Zade. I don't even know what I would do with myself if I could leave this place." Jareth admitted. "This is my home. The goblins are as much my children as the jinn are yours. Would you willingly leave them?"  
  
"No." Zade agreed. "I would not."  
  
"Where will you stay?" Jareth inquired at length changing the subject.  
  
"My people will set up our encampment outside the Labyrinth's western wall. We prefer the broken earth to your greenery." Sade' explained.  
  
"Wise. You always were wise and very beautiful. Tell me, Zade'...Why have you not wed again? It's been a thousand years, I think your kingdom is ready for a new bond mate. " Despite his exhaustion Jareth smiled wickedly.  
  
"Are you volunteering, Aziz-am?" The exotic woman asked.  
  
"No. I don't think I could match your stamina." Jareth remarked jokingly. "But surely there will be any number of ideal candidates arriving in the coming days. I would be most delighted to officiate a wedding."  
  
Zade' laughed loud and free.  
  
"You should take a bond mate for yourself while your at it. Or at least a bed mate. You're prowess is as legendary as my dream stories. You deprive the court of your skills." Zade teased.  
  
"I am a magician, Zade'. Not the devil himself. Women as you well know tend to resent me for providing the very things they most dream for." There was a ever so slight trace of bitterness in this remark.  
  
"So take a man then. They're desires are more simple and easy. You know quite well you could have your pick of either companion. Any of my own children would be honored to serve you." Zade teased, though she was quite serious given that her people were famous for their pleasures and hospitality.  
  
"You are too generous, Zade. And you know absolutely well enough that I'd never deprive you of one of your precious jewels. I am quite happy as I am." He reassured her.  
  
"So you say, Aziz-am. So you say. But you of all people should know that you cannot fool another keeper of dreams. You may be master here, but I am queen." Zade' remarked grinning.  
  
Jareth was not of a mind to argue.   
  
The next person to arrive in advance was the Empyrean Keeper, Ozias Sayer.  
  
Sayer strode into the main hall, quite surprised at how strikingly different the castle, normally in a constant state of muted disrepair, looked to the naked eye. He grinned a little as he continued forth, staring at the portraits on the wall of previously heralded leaders throughout the course of millennia from all around the Underground. No doubt they were decorations for the ball.   
  
He'd left three days previously, traveling with his own entourage of about fifteen Empyrean knights, all wishing to make a name for themselves as part of Elspeth's advance security team. Some of the younger knights had never before left the celestial kingdom and were surprised to feel the solid ground beneath their feet after their obliging and fairly friendly luck dragons spirited them from The Sky to The Ground under the cover of night. Elspeth would be arriving in a matter of just days, choosing to correspond with Sayer via message birds.  
  
Outside the castle his squires had caught sight of a few tall, exotic-looking attendants who were sweeping up piles of fine golden sand. Sayer laughed to himself. Were they goblins in disguise or someone elses servants? In any case, Sayer surmised that Jareth certainly was going all-out for this thankless affair; indeed.  
  
He couldn't help but feel a little bit of anticipation at the thought of having a chance to meet with Jareth again. The two were old friends; he'd been a terrific host over the years to him and other Empyrean travelers who came along to help the royal nephew in his trek around the world to familiarize himself with other lands and customs in his preparation to become The Keeper. Elspeth was not quite a older than a child back then.

 

Sayer was certainly raised to be the ideal warrior and the sharpest thinker in any room he walked into, but he found that most others who proceeded along the path of life he was put upon were often dull, dreary, and terribly boring. Jareth was none of those things--he had plenty of stories about plenty of things, and was far more intelligent than anyone really gave him credit for. Sayer had seen him a few times since there initial adventures together before Jareth had bound himself to the Labyrinth and never tired of listening to his tales and quick quips. Jareth had even once insisted that he b allowed to find a suitable marriage match for Sayer, which was waved off with a laugh and a profession that it would take quite a woman to make him consider leaving his station as The Keeper.  
  
Sayer approached the grand set of doors leading into Jareth's throne room, but was stopped by a pair ofbronze-armored knights, who each held up a huge hand in unison. "Stop." The stereo-echo of their conjoined voices boomed throughout the stone hall. "State your business."  
  
Sayer nodded and lifted up the corners of his mouth in a polite but self-elevating smile. His silver armor glinted refraction of light onto the walls and floor, even though there was no window to stream any sunlight upon him.

 

"The Keeper of The Empyrean has just arrived in the Goblin City and wishes to report to Jareth the Goblin King," he responded politely.   
  
Scheherazade was still entertaining when Ozias arrived and the enchanted goblin guards asked him to halt. Placed in a much better mood now that Zade was with him Jareth strode personally to the still open doors, still tired looking but much improved, so that he could level a grin at his old friend.  
  
"Well well well. Look who is gracing my door. Is it he? The Prince of Sun and Sky?" Jareth's tone was projected intentionally deep, rich, and booming. "Come to play once more in the dirt, I see. Good. It can only serve the Empyrean who shine and glisten with morning dew and sun beams."  
  
The goblin guards were smart enough to back off when Jareth approached.  
  
The Goblin King kept a straight face just as long as it took him to clasp Ozias's forearm and pull him into a boyish hug. "I'm glad you are come, my old friend. I see life in the Empyrean has served you well."   
  
Jareth clapped Ozias on the back and escorted him further into the hall.   
  
Sayer returned the shoulder clap enthusiastically and grinned widely.

 

"Why, if the Goblin King hasn't changed his hair," he stated mock-dryly. "You look quite smaller without that former mane of yours."

 

Sayer did enjoy ribbing Jareth about his flashiness, especially because Jareth had the sense of humor to roll with him. He nodded and gestured his head to indicate the presence of his entourage behind him in the hallway. "Please let us know where we may be most helpful in preparations for this massive undertaking. We thank you for being our most gracious host."  
  
Sayer nodded again, and took in a deep breath, then let it out.

 

"Ahh, that's better!" he said brightly. "Now that I've gotten the formalities out of the way, let's catch up and spend these days well."  
  
Sayer looked further down past Jareth, and spotted the exotic-looking woman not far from Jareth's throne. He blinked as he studied her pretty skin and her calm expression, the richly-colored robes adorning her. Perhaps those reports of handsome goblins had been false--were they Jinn, instead?  
  
Sand. There was golden gilded sand. It all made sense.   
  
Sayer smiled broadly, enchanted by the rare hue of the beautiful woman's eyes.

 

"Jareth, this is the most beautiful sight that I have ever seen while in the Goblin Kingdom," he confidently stated, purposely so she would hear him. "I would love for you to introduce me to your lovely guest, as Ozias Sayer, Keeper of The Empyrean."   
  
"Ah, yes. Allow me to happily make introductions." Jareth knew when to take a hint and he also happened to like putting too very formidable and lovely people together.

 

"May I announce Ozias Sayer, Keeper of the Empyrean Empire as well as cousin and champion of the Lady Empyrean herself, Elspeth. Sir Keeper, allow me to introduce the legendary story weaver Scheherazade. Queen of the Forgotten Desert. Mistress of the golden sands and first arbitrator of the High Council and Second to Queen Mab herself."  
  
Jareth stepped aside as Scheherazade raised her right bronzed hand to signal her servant to provide Sayer a seat.

 

"Sayer jan, come and sit. The High Council is eager to formally meet the new young Empyrean and is curious to know if she will abdicate or take a bond-mate. As you know a decision must be made but, I at least, wish to see your lady happy in life. It is rumored that you are a potential inheritor of the Empire should she step aside. Do you aspire to lead?" Scheherazade voice was rich and dripped with warmth, wisdom, and feminine mystique.   
  
Sayer knew when to turn on the charm.

 

For years he'd maintained that no women in the world were more beautiful than those of the Empyrean people; typically, it was just a way to stir friendly animosity among his friends from different kingdoms, who would all, of course, say the same about their own native people. Except for Jareth, perhaps. But as he stood staring clumsily at the dark beauty with the honeyed voice, he found himself challenging his own notions of beauty he'd been so quick to volunteer and put upon others for so many years.  
  
The light-haired Keeper stepped forward politely and bowed his head in a show of formal respect to the woman from a land far away.

 

"I'm delighted to finally make the acquaintance of one of the most legendary story weavers of all time. Your beauty is even more luminous than I was led to believe by your reputation." He smiled and offered his hand.

 

The woman complied with custom and offered her slender hand, strung with jingling shiny metal rings. He leaned down to kiss the top of her hand and winked evidently, then politely allowed her to pull her hand back to her lap as he took the seat provided for him.  
  
He drew his spine up calmly. "Yes, The Empyrean is honored to receive the task of governing her realm," Sayer began.

 

While talking, he examined Scheherazade's beautiful eyes. Were they speckled with amber, or a brilliant moss green?

 

"She's young. Spirited. Takes the job seriously. Believes in fairness. Driven," he rattled off. "Of course, she's my cousin and I've known her for her entire life. I believe she's more than capable to reign for several centuries." Sayer said frankly.

 

He took his eyes off of the exotic storyteller's and then turned to Jareth instead... a less attractive prospect, but he certainly was not keeping the same level of cool that he reserved for women back in his home kingdom.

 

"We are still in the process of seeking a suitable husband. If she does take a mate, she will not abdicate the throne. That of course is everyone's preference including myself but the young Empyrean is somewhat sheltered compared to her predecessors and quite unsure of herself in many respects. This has made searching for a potential suitor very difficult. Typically princes and kings want to remain in their own homes. But Elspeth will not leave hers. Any mate she takes will be expected to join her fully in the Golden Palace and rule along side her equally."Sayer explained.

 

“If necessary you could always marry her yourself, O'Keeper. It is not an unreasonable thing.” Scheherazade reminded him coyly.

 

Sayer glanced back to Scheherazade turning uncharacteristically pink around the neck. "I don't wish to be The Empyrean. I rather like my station in life where it is."   
  
Jareth felt Sayer looking at him as he mentioned the pressing task of his cousin taking a mate to rule with.

 

The subject had been one of the reasons Ozias and Jareth had become friends as young men. There had once been talk of a union between him and the Empyrean. At the time, Jareth was still very much a boy and had been raised up my his adopted family who openly encouraged and approved of the idea. The idea of being betrothed to a stranger didn't seem strange to the young boy either which is why his family had approved.

 

As a boy, Jareth had seemed to like the idea of some far off Empress waiting to entwine their destinies together. As a child the idea had given him a noble sense of purpose. This sense of purpose had brought him as a young man to the Goblin Kingdom where it had been his intention to train under the current Labyrinth overseer, King Ethan, and become a knight of the realm. If he was to be bound to an Empress someday, then it seemed only right and good that when the time came he be something more than just his parents' adopted son. But just as Jareth had begun his training and befriended Ozias who had gone home with good words and impressions, war began in the Underground with the Castle beyond the Goblin City at the center of the affair.  
  
Ivor the Hammer Fist had been a plague on the land. His brutish power both seductive and unforgiving.

 

Jareth had been serving in the castle when Ivor had come and he had seen the gentle king Ethan crumble under the other man's weight. That's when things had changed in the Labyrinth and civil war had nearly destroyed the kingdom. Who Ivor hadn't killed in the Kingdom, he had enslaved and Jareth found himself caught up in it and cut off from his adopted family. As much as people hated Ivor he had been a powerful leader, if a tyrant and awar hound. But the real terror within the Kingdom had been at the hands of Ivor's chancellor, a powerful self taught sorcerer by the name of Riggs.

 

R iggs was a powerfully dark sorcerer and a cruel man in genral who particularly enjoyed enslaving children. Jareth's chief concern during that time had been survival and he'd never talked about the actual day to day events that had occurred in the castle during that time. As much as Ivor had been a tyrant, Riggs had been a monster and Jareth's quiet defiance of Riggs had greatly agitated and enticed the evil man.  
  
Eventually when Ivor fell, it had been Jareth who had evacuated the castle and broken many of the enslaved children out of bondage using his own small magical mastery and cunning to do it. For himslef, he had remained behind, determined to ensure that a worst fate would not befall the Kingdom when Ivor was finally vanquished and Riggs was left to his own sinister devices.  
  
In the end Riggs plan to overthrow Ivor and take the Labyrinth's power for his own failed and Jareth was given a chance at his own liberation. Now a young adult he'd been given the right to return to his intended destiny. But Jareth's experiences had altered him. The Labyrinth that had long been his home was in ruin. Many of the young humans that had been enslaved were now not just parent-less, but displaced. For his deeds in the castle the surviving Labyrinth Knights had promoted him to the position of knight. An honor that had come at a terrible personal price.  
  
Knowing all of this, the Labyrinth Knights had approached Jareth with a proposition.

 

A proposition that would change his destiny if he accepted. The man who was to be Jareth was offered custodianship of the Labyrinth and all that resided within the confines of the great maze.  
  
Jareth had accepted and in doing so he'd let everything he might have been up until that point go.

 

He'd hensforth become Jareth the Goblin King and took up the task of restoring the Labyrinth to its former beauty if not its former glory. He had decided to devoted his existence to those who had been forgotten, left behind, and gone unwanted and in return had become a forgotten unwanted man himself that had willingly stayed behind.

 

His adopted family had never understood his decision nor had those he was forced to break with. It was certain that his relationship with the Empyrean Empire, outside of Sayer, had been forever compromised and since almost no one knew the exact details of what had gone on in the Labyrinth and castle during and shortly after Ivor's reign, people had made their own assumptions. Mostly incorrect ones that did not caste Jareth in a positive light.  
  
"I think you will find Ozias that the young Empyrean will have her choice of any number of worthwhile suitors soon and just in the knick of time. While I'm sure coming here isn't her first choice, there isn't a better place to be in the coming days for such conserns so I don't think you'll have anything to worry about." Jareth assured him dryly without looking at his friend.  
  
"Marriage is a common theme at the Ball, Sayer Jan. I may be in the market for my own husband. As for our mutual friend, he says he will never marry. Perhaps we should try to persuade him towards another way of thinking." Zade hide a knowing smile behind her head scarf.  
  
"Nonsense. I am the King of Goblins and a servant of the faerie folk. As such my manners are atrocious and I've become a wild cruel thing. Full of mischief and trickery. Anyone that would have the likes of me court them, would have to be a raging masochist indeed." Jareth rattled off sarcastically.  
  
"Don't mock yourself, Aziz-am. If your more recent adventures have proven anything it is that you are far from the caricature you are so fond of cultivating. But if it pleases you to be contrary then so be it. Sayer Jan and myself at least do not take such matters so seriously. Now no more talk. We shall have dancing and music. My children are eager to entertain and must be allowed to demonstrate."  Scheherazade commanded clapping her hands.  
  
Sayer kept his mouth shut. While there were plenty of things that he could think of to say to Scheherazade, running the gamut from fluffy small-talk to at least mildly inappropriate suggestions, he knew that it would behoove him to not say a word about the family's history with Jareth. It wasn't his place to discuss it without Jareth or Elspeth's consent, not to mention that he didn't feel that he completely understood all the things that had transpired previously.  
  
He watched the discussion and nodded along. Elspeth certainly was panicked about finding a suitable husband, but at the present the task wasn't on her mind as much as was her disdain for having to attend the Centennial Ball. He'd thought of reminding Elspeth about how massive gatherings of rulers of the realms usually meant alliances and grudges were to be formed with equal ease, and how it could work in her favor. He now regretted not saying it to her, but still felt a sense of satisfaction upon hearing Jareth and the beautiful woman from the desert both affirm those intuitions.  
  
Sayer glanced over his shoulder to see what it was that the woman had in store for them.   
  
The show began with a series of multicolored scarve dancers, all women. dancing the Dance of the   
Seven Scarves, while the acrobats and fire eaters distracted the eyes in the background. Then came the tiger chiefs who were so bonded to their animals that the creatures acted like large kittens under their care rolling about happily with each other in mock play fighting that both animal and keeper enjoyed. Next came the enslaved jinn with their menacing dark and oversized looks and gnashing teeth as they blew blue smoke that filled the room like a screen.  
  
It was then that Zade began to speak in her native tongue as she spun the story of The Young King and the Black Isle. Though she spoke in her own language the images were so powerful as they formed upon the smoke that it was as if Zade was speaking multiple tongues as she told the story from the main character's perspective.  
  
The story was cativating and might as well of been a live action play only more real. When Zade was finally finished the smoke dissipated and the scarf dancers returned with food and refreshments.  
  
Everyone clapped and Jareth looked more than impressed, if mildly distracted. "Masterful as always."

   
Eventually as the day went on Jareth begged Sayer away from Zade and her entertainers so that they could get to the more serious business of having Sayer inspect the lodgings Jareth had reserved for Elspeth and her people.   
  
Figuring Elspeth was unaccustomed to being on the ground he had taken it upon himself to place her and Sayers quarters at the castle's highest point. Their rooms were large and circular, being tower spaces, and Jareth had the goblins construct a sky terrace adjacent to Elspeth's room that would allow her to walk out among the open air while still remaining away from everyone else.  
  
"What do you think, Sayer. Will it do? I was thinking of having the hangings and bedding done up in the Empyrean's favorite colors. I suspect this will be her first trip to the ground so I thought it might be better for her to at least have an environment that reminds her somewhat of her sky home. The ceilings are enchanted to reflect the changing sky and will alter as the sky and the Empyrean's mood dictate. If you're people have any other requests you know I will do what I can to accommodate them, but I must admit I wish this ball weren’t happening." Jareth confessed.  
  
Jareth finished showing Sayer around before he settled upon the arm of a chair near the vanity so that he could speak candidly.   
  
"You know how matters of state go. Frankly, I'm worried. Deeply so." Jareth confided.   
  
"Well, most importantly," Sayer started, "You know how women are. Their favorite color changes every five minutes."

 

He looked up and admired the evening blue ceiling, made even more delightful by the presence of birds taking flight far away. "This really is quite delightful."  
  
He leaned against the window nearby and looked out over the sky terrace briefly before turning his attention back to Jareth.

 

"You are right. The tide is against you right now," Sayer stated plainly. "From what whispers I've been able to hear from other protectors of realms, I understand that several different parties are not looking upon you favorably at the moment. And neither is Elspeth."

 

Sayer drew in a sigh. The ceiling's sun sparkled off of his spotless armor.

 

"She's under the impression that the entrance of humans, such as Sarah Williams, also ushered in the entrance of a plague that ended up killing a segment of our population, including the Former Empyrean Rulers. Her parents, my beloved aunt and uncle." He shrugged.

 

"She's held these beliefs for only a brief period of time, but I do not know if I share those beliefs. There seems to be something more pressing. Elspeth would have been despondent no matter how her parents died, but I find it difficult to believe she ought to place the blame on you. You understand that I still have to consider if there is any merit to her beliefs before I can start to try to slowly break her out of it. I'm hoping that a marriage possibility will emerge that will take up her energy at the very least regardless of what I discover."   
  
"She what?" Jareth was momentarily and truly stunned by this revelation and also secretly hurt that Sayer was suggesting that there was even the slightest possibility that such a notion could potentially carry any weight.

 

Then again, why shouldn't Sayer be objective and open to all possibilities? while Jareth considered Sayer to be a friend of his, they'd not been involved over long in each others lives and had more or less kept up with each other from a distance.   
  
"Causing plagues now, am I? I must say that's a new unsubstantiated skill I haven't had assigned to me before." A corner of Jareth's lips threatened to curl in disgust at such a ridiculous notion. "And how am I to recant such a baseless accusation of the heart?"  
  
Jareth sighed and slid into the chair he'd been perched on. "As if things couldn't get more complicated regarding this blasted ordeal. why do I feel as if I’m preparing for an assassination? Does anyone have any notion of what I’m doing here? what I have done all these centuries? Does all of my efforts mean nothing to everyone?"  
  
Jareth crossed his arms and legs. "Well, let them all come then. The who lot of them with their hysteria. As if I will be the only one in attendance with darkness in my heart, if not, blood on my hands. I know I don't have to make you promise that you will do whatever you think is good and right. Everyone will expect that much from you if not from me. You can afford to be noble and righteous. You are the Prince of Sun and Sky and I know you'll act on your position as a knight of the realm. It's something I've always admired about you. you are everything I can not afford to be after all."  
  
 _Live without the sunlight,_  
Love without your heart beat.  
  
I...I, I, Can't live within you.   
  
Sayer held a hand up reassuringly.

 

"Jareth, I know you have powerful magic," he started, "but you are not the sort who would use it to instigate death upon others."  
  
He turned his head to survey Elspeth's quarters again, and then back to Jareth.

 

"Elspeth is convinced, but I'm not," he continued. "She lost her parents. She's upset. I can comprehend and even empathize. But I've done my own investigation into her allegations that, as of yet, has yielded no substantiation of her suspicions. I have not shared the news with her yet, but I will when I discover what did indeed caused that plague. I want to be able to explain the true cause of what occurred if I am to challenge the notion that you caused the plague or had anything to do with it whatsoever. But I am actively seeking the proof needed to not just protect you, but to keep her justly informed and to keep the kingdoms safe. “  
  
"Now, as for any potential of assassination, you must calm yourself," Sayer added calmly. "My advance team outside the doors possesses fifteen brave Empyrean knights. Elspeth's personal detail contains thirty and I plan on adding another fifteen to arrive after she does in order to contribute fifty of my best men in order to ensure Elspeth's safety, and your realm's, as well. Between my people and your own agents I'm sure we can keep things civilized."   
  
Jareth had been thinking more along the lines of a character assassination, but never the less he knew Sayer's intentions were good.

 

In some respects Sayer was right, Jareth was prone to worry when something specific agitated him, but, then again, that's what came of always being so isolated. If something dire was going to occur, Jareth realized he was just going to have to go along with it without losing sight of who he was.

 

Besides, some things were not about him. The plague, for example, that Sayer spoke of was part of the concerns of the Empyrean and had nothing to do with him. The moving and shaking of the other kingdoms were also not his concern so long as the kingdoms intended to keep the Labyrinth out of their affairs. Even the High Council's agendas were much bigger than the Goblin Kingdom alone. This knowledge brought him into a more placid mindset.  
  
"What will be is what will be, my friend. I think for the moment everything is in order and that's enough for me. You should go back to the main hall and enjoy yourself. My work is just beginning." Jareth encouraged him.

 


	10. Respite

As Jareth had promised, Magdalene returned home shortly after the second red sun had risen over the skyline. She was still in her full knightly regalia which consisted of silvery armor that she had crafted herself in the French style hinting at her human heritage.

 

Upon entering her home Mag discovered to her saticfaction both Dunne and Jillian asleep before the fire. Tea had been set out on the table, the tin pot was still warm indicating Jillian had likely gotten up early and simply fallen back asleep. Magdlene could sense something else in her home the air was filled with the afterglow of magic telling her that something had transpired while she was away. She also sensed trace amounts of a masculine energy. Jareth had undoubtedly been here as well, she surmised. No doubt intending to speak will Jillian. Jareth had told Mag his plans and given her leave to instruct and prepare the girl for the intricacies of what she was being asked to participate in.

 

Mag privately wondered at Jareth's reasoning but would not openly defy his will unless she thought it particularly unsound. Even then, she would have taken any grievance up with the other Labyrinth Knight before she brought it to Jareth himself. Mag didn't disapprove of Jillian.. She found the young woman to be sensible and intelligent enough given her station in life and understanding of things as well as gracious in light of what was happening to her. Jareth had told Mag of his conversation and how Jillian had not been intimidated by him. A admirable quality indeed.

 

Removing her helmet, Mag placed it momentarily on the table, moving toward her closet so that she could begin the process of getting out of her armor. It would have to be thoroughly cleaned and polished later but for now Mag was content to get into some regular clothes and brew up some strong coffee. Her time in council with the Labyrinth knights and her meetings with Jareth about the security of the maze and castle had been important and interesting but tiresome for everyone. Not to mention the problems of having to coordinate with both Sayer and Scheherazade people. Sayer's men in particular though fine honorable soldiers, had little experience with being on the ground and we're not accustomed to 'slumming it'. The goblin's that were in their real forms also greatly unnerved and disturbed them, though most kepted to Sayer's stern instructions about keeping their opinions to themselves.

 

Mag found the business tested her patience since she could feel their secret distrust and disdain. Though she noted Sayer was a different fellow entirely and seemed to have a much greater appreciation and respect for the Labyrinth's denizens than his men did.

 

Though she was as quiet as possible the sound of removing her armor did ultimately disturb Jillan and Dunne from their relaxed dreaming before the fire.

 

“Mag, you've returned.” Dunne said in his lost fashion as he sat up and rubbed at his face.

 

Jillian also started and though still a bit sleepy got up from the rocker to help Magdalene who was grateful for her attentiveness.

 

“Well, you both look like you've survived. I appreciate that my home is still in one piece.” Mag said with good-natured dryness.

 

“How did...Huh, how did whatever you were doing go?” Dunne asked, understandably not fully sure of why Magdalene had left or what she had been doing.

 

“It was tedious, but we got everything we set out to accomplish done. I must admit, in all my years serving in the Kingdom I've never seen such a complex and complicated event happen here.” Magdalene confessed as she settled down at the table and began to inventory her things.

 

Both Jillian and Dunne settled at the table with her as they passed around the strong coffee Mag had brewed immediately upon returning home.

 

“I have a bad feeling about what's coming.” Dunne remarked. “I think...I think I might see about retreating into the enchanted forest until this is all over.”

 

Mag observed him with knowing eyes. “If that is what you feel is best, Dunne, then when Baltusar arrives I'll ask him to take you back with him when he goes. You'll be safe in his people's care. I promise.”

 

“Who is Baltusar?” Jillian asked conversationally.

 

“He's a native of the enchanted forest and a friend to many of us here. He knows a great deal about many things and will be part of the joint party connected to Jareth's personal entourage.” Mag explained.

 

“Isn't he going to stand up with the White Huntress instead? They do have...A particular relationship, I thought.” Dunne inquired in mild confusion.

 

For Jillian's benefit, Mag explained. “The White Huntress is the recognized guardian of the Enchanted Forest. The Labyrinth bisects its western edge. Meriel isn't exactly a fan of the Labyrinth or the Goblin Kingdom but she's also not an enemy. She and Jareth have a respectful understanding between them and she sometimes will assist with joint endeavors that effect both places. She also hates the High Council with a passion so much so that she almost refused to attend the upcoming events.”

 

“Well...She is a half Human.” Dunne pointed out. “I'm sure neither the Earthlong Elves nor Mab look on that fact very...You know...Um...Favorably.”

 

Jillian found she had a lot of questions about his statement but tried to keep the conversation on point. “What's all of that got to do with this Baltusar person?”

 

“Baltusar lived in the castle for some time after Jareth became the Labyrinth's custodian. During his time there he served in many capacities and is still a close confidant of Jareth's. Ultimately, he was born in the above and has since retired within the enchanted forest. He and Meriel are also relations, though it's not widely known how this came to be outside of the area. For this reason it would be possible for Baltusar stand with Meriel but it's more likely he will stand with Jareth given his relationship to the castle. I personally don't believe either Jareth or Meriel cares who he stands with, as long as he's there in general.” Magdalene shrugged dismissively.

 

“Speaking of Jareth or whatever I'm supposed to call him. He was here this morning before sunrise.” Jillian noted.

 

“Really...?” Dunne looked dimly impressed. “I'm mightily glad I slept through THAT encounter. Jareth...Unnerves me. By no fault of his own of, of, course.”

 

“I know.” Mag confirmed. “He told me of his plans this morning. We're going to have to talk about it.”

“Is it really a big deal that I'm being included in this thing?” Jillian asked.

 

“Well,” Mag considered the question. “I suppose it depends on how you choose to look at things. There are plenty of human beings in the Underground. Myself and Baltusar, for example. I was born here and Baltusar came by other means. While we're both essentially human we've been in the Underground long enough to become apart of it.”

 

Jillian kind of understood what Mag was driving at.

 

Basically it was like traveling abroad when you weren't originally from the place you were visiting. People could usually tell you didn't belong even if you wore the right clothes and did the right things to fit in. Jillian supposed it was doubly true in a world that's mechanics included magic. While Dunne had implied that anyone could learn with enough time and practice Jillian imagined that most people from her world didn't believe in magical places or things. Surely, it was noticeable to those who so commonly did.

 

“How much did Jareth tell you?” Mag asked trying to judge how much explaining she needed to do.

 

“Nothing.. Nothing much at least. He called it a ball and a diplomatic function. Something about needing a human representative in his party or delegation or...Whatever. He said that the Labyrinth has always been a connection point between worlds. I can't say I understand the context of any of it.” Jillian shrugged.

 

“Jareth means the castle is one of the few stationary gateway points between the Underground and the Above...Your world. The Enchanted Forest also occasionally acts as a entry point but it's more randomized and nearly impossible to travel back through.” Magdalene explained.

 

“Is that the only reason it's special?” Jillian inquired.

 

Mag didn't reply immediately.

 

There was much that could have been said about the mysterious unnamed castle that was beyond the Goblin City. Given both her history and her role as the Head of the Guard, Mag could have said a great deal about what she knew. But Jareth had not given her leave to reveal all the secrets of his kingdom and Mag knew she had to tread carefully. While she liked Jillian there was also something strange about her that made Magdalene uneasy. Jareth had seemed so distracted when he was referencing her while she had been away serving in the castle that it caused Mag to wonder at him.

 

“The castle has many mysteries and secrets associated with it. I would wager that only Jareth and those who have ruled before him know them all. What I can tell you is what is commonly known. The castle has been in existence since before the last Great Conjunction that split the magical and non-magical worlds in two and has almost always had Above born leaders. Most have been benevolent and all acquired vast magical skills during their time in the Kingdom. Unlike many other places and societies in the Underground, the Goblin Kingdom has traditionally been a politically neutral monarchy. But the Labyrinth's vast magical properties make it a profound place of power, even in a world where magic is generally common place. Jareth has had an understandably guarded attitude towards those seeking his favor.” Magdalene explained.

 

“The Centenial Ball of the High Elder Court has been hosted in various setting throughout the Underground since the worlds split and before Queen Mab waged her ill fated war against humanity in the Above. Historically, it is an opportunity for the great powers of the Underground to come together in solidarity, even those who would otherwise be in conflict with each other. It's also an opportunity to right injustices that must be arbitrated by the High Elder Council.” Magdalene went on.

 

“Sounds kind of heavy. Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to attend this thing after all. It sound like a whole lot of trouble and I'm not even from here.” Jillian protested.

 

“Jareth would never expect you to do something you didn't want to do, outside of a formal bargain with him. But it might be to your benefit to attend. If Mim turns out to be a lost cause you could take up your predicament with the High Court. They could help you return to your world if Mim can't or won't help you.” Magdalene advised.

 

“Is there even a doubt? I mean, Mim was the last person I encountered before I landed myself here. There's no way she's not responsible for this.” Jillian argued.

 

“I have no reason to doubt your interpretation of events. I wasn't there. But it may be worth considering all possibilities. Its very rare now for humans to just pop into the Underground. Furthermore, for you to have appeared here of all possible places, is an interesting coincidence. It's very rare that Jareth is surprised by anything or unaware of what goes on in and around his domain. I'm just suggesting that there may be more going on than any of us realizes and, if there is, the High Council will be obligated to ferret it out upon request. I think you should go. I promise if you do we will not leave you undefended and unprotected. You have my word as a honorable Labyrinth knight and as your friend.” Mag promised her.

 

~@~

 

Before Blatusar was to rendezvous with Magdalene, he wanted to check in on Jareth first. Seeing the Labyrinth in it's current state was mightily disturbing especially for Baltusar who had bore witness to the kingdom's many transitions. Of anyone currently alive there was no one who knew as much as he did about certain things. Where Jareth was conserned, he knew all there was to know.

 

“Father, there is much trouble coming to the realm.” Meriel observed in her aloof manner as she watched Baltusar carefully pack his things.

 

“Yes, my daughter. I feel it keenly too. We must all play our part in this unfolding epic, whatever might happen. Today I will travel to the castle and try to remain as much as possible. Jareth has few allies in this business and fewer friends. If the worst comes then he may need to be reminded of certain things.” Baltusar replyed gravely.

 

Meriel observed her father with feral all black eyes that saw much more than anyone guessed. “Jareth thinks the High Council is planning to put him under trial. He believes they plan to openly judge him and that the Centennial Ball is but an excuse to make an example of him.”

 

“There are many agendas to be played out in this event. That is how it always goes. Mab is of course after the Castle proper or at least what might be hidden in it. She has always hungered for it believing the castle hers by right of war and blood. But the castle is not hers nor should it ever be. Jareth understands this truth and he will sacrifice himself for it if necessary. I must go and help him.” Baltusar remarked.

 

Meriel pressed her lips and approached him. Though she was a fierce creature she was also a sensitive one.

 

“If what you say is true then you cannot save him, Father.” Meriel remarked bluntly.

 

“Jareth has no intention of being saved by me or anyone else. He is determined to side with fate rather than destiny in all matters. Given who and what he is, he is wise to choose that way. I go to him now because I am his friend and because I love him.” Baltus's response was equally as blunt as his daughter's.

 

At his last remark, Meriel tilted her head curiously to the side. She was generally a logic driven person but her father's human emotionalism which she shared with him by half was still often an oddity to her when she witnessed examples of it.

 

“I do not understand why you ever left his service and company.” Meriel said.

 

“I left, my daughter, because unlike Jareth, I side with the demands of destiny. It was not my destiny to remain with him and we both knew it. So I remained long enough to educate him on certain important things and when he proved proficient in them I knew it was my time to return home. Jareth may enjoy my eternal loyalty as a result of our time together, but you and your mother before you are the jewels of my heart.” Baltusar took up his daughter's clawed hands and brought her knuckles to his lips.

 

Some time later, Baltusar made his way into the castle by way of the servant paths. Under the circumstances the castle was generally locked down, but because Jareth knew his friend would eventually make an appearance he had incorporated the possibility into the castle's security. Baltusar would undoubtedly be discrete about his entrance. His previous time in the castle made him capable of maneuvering through its illusions. The feeling in the castle was solemn and still, at least in the parts that weren't currently being occupied for entertainment. Following an instinct that was born out of only the most intimate kind of attachment Baltusar made his way towards Jareth's personal chambers. It was a place in the center of the castle where not even the goblin's were found. The chamber itself was ancient and unchanged with little furniture and creature comforts.

 

Jareth rarely slept in any manner that could be understood as conventional. More commonly he could be found propped up in a dusty chair, seemly only half asleep. Baltusar understood this tendency in him. A restless rigidity that for Jareth had come out of unspeakable circumstances.

 

When Baltusar didn't find him immediately in the outer rooms, he became fearful and quickened his pace.

 

“Jareth, please make yourself known to me.” Baltusar's Hungarian accent always came out more thickly when he was concerned.

 

Baltusar felt the tell tale energy in the room shift encouraging him to follow the feeling of fluttering as he turned around in the center most room, to find Jareth sitting with his elbows on his knees near the end of the ancient four poster bed where a dilapidated cushioned bench was. His mouth was set in a down ward line that was less of a scowl and more of a frown. One fist was propping up the side of his face while the other dangled from his knee. He looked plain and dull wearing only an ornate white poets shirts and faun colored tights. His hair was shorter than it had been in the past but in this instance was deeply feathered and lightly hued making him look considerably more vulnerable than he otherwise might have appeared. Baltusar knew that Jareth's appearance was much more tied to his feelings than people knew as well as how magically strained he felt. His current appearance was not comforting to Baltusar.

 

In contrast, Balthazar was only slightly taller than Jareth. His features were strong but gaunt and his nose was large, sharp, and straight. Like Jareth, Baltusar's brow was deep set but unlike Jareth included a generous forehead that made him look ever intense and intelligent. He wore his ashy blonde hair very long and straight with an even part down the middle. Lean and broad, his form was draped in heavy black robes that made his chalky pale skin particularly noticeable. His hands were large and artistic, a throwback from his first life as a poor but promising Hungarian music student and poet.

 

In many respects the men looked somewhat alike, and it was possible that to some degree Jareth had modeled aspects of himself after the other man either out of conscious admiration or unconscious attachment.   
  


“You look morose and most unwell. What have you been doing with yourself in here?” Baltusar demanded to know with sharp disapproval.

 

“Avoiding the other inmates and interlopers before the invasion of the Ides of March.” Jareth muttered making an obscure reference to the assassination date of Julius Caesar.

 

Baltusar resisted the temptation to roll his eyes and instead set his jaw. “Do you see that thing there? That, as you might recall, is called a bed. Its purpose is to rest the body and mind when it is weary and to make love in when the spirit is taken. Come. We will talk and then you will rest properly for once.”

 

Jareth pouted and begged Baltusar off until Baltusar simply lifted him into and standing position and escorted him to bed. Removing his heavy black robe in a fluid motion, Baltusar laid it over Jareth like he was putting to bed a child. With a huff he then walked around the other side of the bed and climbed into it with him propping himself up against the head board while Jareth laid upon his back examining the vaulted ceiling.

 

“My daughter tells me that you suspect a plot is afoot.” Baltusar urged.

 

Jareth sighed heavily.

 

“As if there could be any doubt. Queen Mab wants the castle for herself. She cares nothing for the goblins or the significance of the maze. You would have thought she would have learned long ago to let bygones be bygones. You would think she would be happy with things as they are.” Jareth muttered.

 

“Here sister Vivienne's tomb is here. Not to mention Morgana's. It is for this reason she thinks she has a right.” Baltusar observed.

 

“Queen Mab will never have dominion here whether or not she manages to oust me from my place. Not even she can defy the deep magic. She'd be wiser to seek out the legendary relics of the realm which would be far more valuable than anything else. NOT that she knows where any of them are.” A grime mirthless smile came over Jareth's features at the thought of the wild goose hunt that could ensue if Mab or anyone else tried to pursue that route.

 

“You have done your job very well in your time here.” Baltusar observed.

 

“Apparently not well enough. If the High Council comes here intending to judge me then it will be over the more recent business regarding that human girl and her baby brother.” Jareth scoffed at himself.

 

“Sarah Williams. The girl-child who beat the Goblin King at his own game. They will claim that my conduct during the business proves how truly wicked I really am. They will claim that I allowed my own self interest to cloud my judgment and my duty. They will claim it all without knowing the truth of the business. Maybe...Just maybe it's all for the best.” Jareth considered out loud.

 

Baltusar pressed his lips before venturing a reply. “I think you have been on your own for too long. I think you are sullen and depressed and that you are trying to convince yourself that you really are the bad person everyone would like to make you out to be. Why do you insist upon indulging them? What will that serve? If you are to be made an example of then why not do it on your own terms. You were not always Jareth the Goblin King. You had another name and another life once upon a time. I remember, do I not? Was I not there? You could be that other man again if you wanted to be.”

 

“What is done, is done.” Jareth said dismissively. “We all have our parts to play in this world, do we not? You always used to like to remind me and now I remind myself.”

 

Jareth scoffed. “I have missed your wisdom and your comfort, Baltus. I wish you had never left.”

 

“Perhaps if I had remained you would not be in this predicament now.” Baltusar offered pensively.

 

“We are not to know what might have been. Besides you were right to leave. What could I offer you here besides myself? There were other more important people in your life and in your memory that I had no desire to compete with.”

 

Both men understood the truth of this.

 

“What of this human woman who has appeared?” Baltusar asked, changing the subject.

 

“I have no idea how or why that woman is here. I certainly didn't summon her. Then again, there seems to me a common connection between her, myself, and the Goodneighbor Mim. That deplorable creature was the one who gave me my orders for this damned Ball and while she did it she managed to steal one of my crystals which somehow ended up in the possession of that Jillian person. The crystal wouldn't have transported her here on it own. I don't know what to think of any of it, however, since she hasn't bargained with me her welfare is not my responsibility. I've been meaning to look into it more but there just hasn't been time.” Jareth confessed with exasperation.

 

“Someone else could have brought her here or it's possible she brought herself. Does she have any magical predisposition you could detect?” Batusar asked.

 

Jareth didn't reply right away. Instead, he thought about how Jillian had felt to him when he first met her and how she had felt later on. She was certainly an imaginative person. The type who tried to be practical and logical but who was really a dreamer at heart. Jareth had been so tempted to look inside her dreams, but something ominous had held him back. The familiarity he felt when looking at her also felt uncomfortable and confusing and it wore on him that he couldn't figure out why. He supposed that some of it might have been because she reminded him of Sarah Williams, but only for the fact that like Sarah, Jillian was dark haired and had compelling eyes. In temperament she was not much like Sarah had been at all. He also remembered the air of magic around Jillian when he saw her last and wondered at it all. It really could be that simple. That Jillian had somehow transported herself into the underground through some unconscious impulse, it was also possible that she had been dumped near the Labyrinth only because she was carrying a magical object that belonged there.

 

“There is potential for magical aptitude, but I don't believe she is conscious of it yet or that she will become so. In any case I'm not going to worry about it until it becomes a problem.” Jareth said dismissively. “Which reminds me.”

 

“I've asked Jillian to be apart of my party at the Ball and I would like you and Magdalene to help her through the experience. If she is a wild element in all of this chaos I want her where I can have my people keep an eye on her.” Jareth continued.

 

“It seems strange.” Baltusar remarked.

 

“Isn't everything.” Jareth muttered unhappily.

 

“It would be nice to speak pleasantries with another human and a contemporary one at that. She will need a dress and you will have to think about how you want to address her situation and your decision to have her there.” Baltusar reminded him.

 

“She's a guest of the Goblin Kingdom.” Jareth said carefully.

 

“She is a human without history or known significance in our world.” Baltusar countered Jareth's justification.“If it were someone else...Excuses would not need to be made.”

 

Here it was. The conversation Jareth did not want to have with Baltusar or anyone else.

 

“I don't want to talk about it.” Jareth warned wearily. “The subject you are poking at has no bearing...”

 

“You know they will use what happened here thirty or so years ago as a means to hurt you.” Baltusar stressed, knowing full well the truth had to be said.

 

“The terms of that bargain were upheld. I regret nothing about my conduct in the business.” Jareth said defensively.

 

“You may lie to me, you may even lie to yourself, but you cannot lie to the High Council. They will know what is in your heart and they will judge you for it.” Baltusar warned him compassionately.

 

“And what truth is that? Was it that I was taken in by the girl? That I might have loved her under other circumstances? Sarah Williams was a naive spoiled child who was utterly and willfully unacquainted with the ways of the world. At every turn in her journey here she showed nothing but ignorance and insolence towards the realities of her situation. Was it I who took her brother or who gave her the ability to wish him away to begin with? No. But it was assumed and so I played the role she assigned me. I have never in all my years known anyone so demanding and so entirely ungrateful.” Jareth vented viciously.

 

“I afforded her every opportunity to become more and to demand more from herself and from me, and all she did was throw it back in my face and coldy..Leave. Never to think about me again never to include me in her memories. I was nothing to her but a fantasy villain to vanquish and to never be troubled by again.” Jareth finished.

 

For the first time in a long time Baltusar saw Jareth express real and honest pain. As hard as it might have been for some to believe, the incident with Sarah Williams had hurt him emotionally and clearly still haunted him to this day.

 

“You are being to hard on yourself.” Baltusar muttered trying to comfort him.

 

“No. I judge myself rightly.” Jareth nearly growled.

 

_I should have remained with him_ , Baltusar thought to himself remorsefully. _I should not have left him alone. How do I help him through this?_ He wondered helplessly.

 

For lack of anything better he could think to offer Jareth just then, Baltusar climbed atop him effectively pinning Jareth under his dark robes. Keeping him firmly straddled, Baltusar pressed his palms into the moth bitten pillow on either side Jareth's face and met him nose to nose shrouding their features beneath his long hair.

 

“You are NOT a BAD person.” Baltusar insisted fervently. “What ultimately happened in the business was NOT your fault. If the Labyrinth wanted that girl-child or her brother so badly then they should have left you out of it. Your MOTHER should have stayed out of it all together. But in her own way she loves you and she wanted something for you that was not hers to give. You must stop torturing yourself over it. Some things that are broken and set asunder cannot and should not be repaired.”

 

As if to further make his point or perhaps to defy it, Baltusar, on a whim and without further consideration of the wisdom of it, pressed his mouth to Jareth's in a purposeful kiss that reminded them both of how things had once been between them.

 

Jareth didn't resist him nor judge the action one way or another. Working his arms free from under the black robes that were presently serving as a blanket between them. Jareth pulled Baltusar more completely down against him and, rolling them both onto their sides, kissed him back.

 


	11. The Ball Begins

Try as she might, Jillian could not loosen the knot that coiled tightly around the pit of her stomach as she sat on one of the stools in Mag's kitchen, hands clasped on the table, a nervous thumb drumming against her wrist. Today was the day. For two weeks, she had walked along the Goblin City as a “guest” of the kingdom and accepted interloper. Now she was to be elevated as a symbol, as a physical representation of what made the ancient city and integral and necessary part of the Underground. It was an honor and a privilege that she did not fully understand and, in a respect, this made her feel strangely unworthy of bearing the responsibility.   
  
As Magdalene had promised, the endlessly polite and serious, though kind, man known as Baltusar had stopped by a few days before the Ball to introduce himself. He had met Jillian with his demure European charm that she thought was straight out of some aristocratic period piece with the way he bowed to her and kissed her hands. Jillian also noted how much he looked like Jareth, only perhaps somewhat older, more intense, and plain of face.  
  


To her surpise, after their initial introductions, Baltusar invited Jillian to take a walk with him out of doors so that they could become acquainted.

 

“I feel I must apologize for his Majesty, my Lady. While Magdalene's is one of the finest humans around, her accommodations are far outside the progressive and contemporary environment you must be accustomed to in your own time and place.” Baltusar began conversationally as he had guided them gently through the Goblin City at a causal pace.

 

“Oh...It's been...Fine. Really. I know I must seem out of my element, but I've done my share of roughing it where I'm from. My first summer job growing up was at a sleep away camp and those accommodations were basically the equivalent of living outside so...Really this has been fine under the circumstances.” Jillian explained.

 

“You are from the Americas, are you not?” Baltusar asked her.

 

“Boston , Massachusetts. It's in North America.” Jillian explained.

 

“Part of the original thirteen colonies, as I recall. The histories of your world are not entirely unknown to me although I confess that is largely on account of his Majesty who is more fond of keeping track of the Above world then I am.” Baltausar confessed.

 

“Magdalene mentioned her were born in my world. May I ask...” Jillian wasn't sure how to politely ask him who he had once been.

 

“Yes. As a matter of fact. I was born in Hungary in springtime. I believe the year was 1526. I was nothing more than a peasant really. Born of a seamstress and musician. Lucrative enough skills to provide me some education.” He explained.

 

“You...You must be nearly five hundred years old.” Jillian remarked in disbelief of the man who looked to be in his forties.

 

“I'm sorry. I have shocked you.” Baltusar said hastily offering Jillian his arm in case she was going to swoon. “You should know that time and space work differently in the Underground and especially in places like the Labyerith. Here time is not linear. It can move in many directions or not at all. That is why things and people here can sometimes look so dated. Some places and people hold onto the old ways for other reasons like tradition or because their domains operate on a different plain. But there are also very modern, even futuristic, places in our world as well; if you know where to find them and how to navigate them.”

 

Jillian shook her head, understandably overwhelmed. “I'm sorry. I believe what your saying I just...Can hardly fathom it. It's like something out of a fantasy or a science fiction novel. Why is it that you've never aged?”

 

“Ah. In my case I have achieved a kind of immortality. There are many things that can prolong a person's life here permanently or by certain margins. Magdalene, for example, ages but at a much slower rate than you because she was born here in the Labyrinth and because her people developed naturally longer lives from generations of living in our greater world. Mim maintains her youth through her status as a Goodneighbor and must uphold her responsibilities as sush if she is to retain her magical abilities and here youth. I came here a average young man long ago in pursuit of a woman I loved. In order to remain with her I was sent on a quest to find a particular and rare flower that would seal our love and bind me to my beloved's world forever. As you might guess, I fulfilled my quest and won my immortality.” He explained.

 

Jillian noted a restrained sadness in his final words as if in winning his quest he had lost something else equally important. Not wanting to invade his privacy if it was painful for him, Jillian shifted the subject sightly.

 

“Do you know his Majesty well?” Jillian inquired with genuine curiosity.

 

“I do. We are very good friends and I have known him a very long time.” Baltusar assured her.

 

“Is he like you?” Jillian asked innocently.

 

“Jareth is not a human being...Not like you or I, at least. He was born neither in your world nor this one making him something of an oddity all the way around. For that reason, time and space as well as life and death are felt differently for him than many would understand. Though he is not human in any conventional sense, it has always been my earnest belief that he possesses a human heart and soul as real and true as yours and mine is. Since becoming the Labyrinth's custodian, Jareth no longer ages if he ever really did. Among other things he is a powerful magical being, perhaps more than even he understands and he is also a good man despite what he would let people believe.” Baltusar led her around a bend where a small garden had been planted made mostly of herbs and flowerbeds.

 

Near the center of the garden was a stone bench which Baltusar encouraged them to rest upon.

 

“Are you nervous about what Jareth has asked of you?” Baltusar asked her.

 

“Yes. I mean...This is all like a fantasy or a impending nightmare. I haven't decided which. Apart of me wants to hide away and just sort of wait for it all to be over. If that makes any sense. Magdalene has explained the potential advantages of participating in the upcoming events, but I'm not really certain I have any right to be there. It all seems so...Important and I'm just...Me.” Jillian confessed.

 

Baltusar nodded and patted her knitted hands.

 

“I sympathize with your feelings on the subject, but I must agree with Magdalene that there would be much opportunity to help yourself. I personally am not one to believe in coincidence. I believe everything everywhere happens for a purposeful reason. I think you are come to this place at this time because it is where you need to be. Jareth means you no harm. None of us do and if we can we would all wish to help you. Yet I would not be surprised to find that, by some unknown destiny, it is you who will help us somehow. That makes you very important and worthy, indeed. Wouldn't you agree?” Baltusar asked rhetorically.

 

At that moment, Jillian decided she greatly liked Baltusar and, because he spoke with such deep compassion and knowing, it made her want to trust Jareth as well by association.

 

“Well...If I'm going to go to a Ball I suppose I'm going to need a dress. I'm going to count on you Baltusar to keep an eye on me. The last thing I want to do is make a mistake in all this that lands me in deeper trouble than I already am.” Jillian said decidedly as she tried to make light of things.

 

“My lady, I shall watch over you as soundly as I would the king himself. We all will. I give you my word.” Baltusar took up Jillian's hands and squeezed them reassuringly. “Come. We should return now. I have agreed to bring Dunne into the Enchanted Forest and must keep my promise. When I return I will bring you a dress fitting of your status with us.”

 

Baltusar went away for several hours that day and in the meantime Jillian had helped Magdalene polish her armor in preparation for their departure.

 

“I hope Dunne is going to be OK while we're gone.” Jillian said mindfully as she passed various pieces of equipment over to Mag who vigorously checked and rechecked every inch off them for any imperfections.

 

“Meriel's people will take care of him until after everything is through.” Mag reassured her not looking up from her work.

 

“How long have you been a knight?” Jillian hadn't talked much to Magdalene about her past and experiences. She knew only that the fierce woman had been born in the kingdom.

 

“I've served as the head of the Guard here for nearly thirty years. Before that I was away earning my rites of Knighthood.” Magdalene explained.

 

“Baltusar mentioned you were born here.” Jillian recalled.

 

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I was. Was there a reason you brought the subject up?” Magdalene paused in her work to peer at Jillian.

 

“No. Well...I suppose I was just trying to imagine what it was like...Sorry. It just seems lonely.” Jillian observed.

 

Mag did not reply to this immediately and went back to her work. Only speaking again just when Jillian began to think she wasn't going to comment further on the subject.

 

“The Labyrinth and the Goblin City wasn't always full of only goblins. There were other people here once. Human's and indigenous folk. The surrounding area used to be green and fertile and there were villages to the east and west. There were never very many people within the maze's boarders. Maybe three dozen human families that the castle had employed at one point or another, but there were many outside the Labyrinth's boarders.” Mag explained.

 

“I find that hard to imagine what with the way everything looks now. What happened to the villages?” Jillian asked.

 

“They were destroyed and the people within them were killed; their children enslaved.” Mag said evenly.

 

“Jareth did all that?” Jillian asked with a shocked expression upon her face.

 

“No. Jareth helped put a stop to it. It was during the reign of Ivor the Hammer Fist, a particularly dark time in the kingdom's history. When Ivor fell some of the surviving children who were liberated stayed, but most eventually scattered to the winds. My parents where among the survivors. For his deeds Jareth was knighted and soon after was elected by the Knights of the Labyrinth to assume his status as King.” Magdalene revealed.

 

“I...I can't believe it. That sounds horrible. I'm sorry.” Jillian remarked not knowing what else to say.

 

“Jareth doesn't like to speak about it, I suspect because there was much unpleasantness that he personally endured at the hands of Ivor and his Chancellor Riggs. At the time the castle was invaded by Ivor, Jareth had been serving in the castle as a squire to the ruling King. He willing chose to remain when Ivor assumed power and I know not how he lived during that time. Whatever happened, it was unspeakably cruel.” Finishing her work Magdalene began to put everything away.

 

“When you go to the castle you will likely hear many disparaging claims spoken about Jareth, albeit quietly. Many will probably be about him stealing children and turning them into goblins or worse. I want you to understand that none of it is true. What is true is that Jareth occasionally enters into magical agreements with people who call on his power or the power of the Goblin Kingdom. In all cases he has kept his word. While I will not deny his emotions can be fickle and his actions occasionally rash, he is at heart a strategist and a diplomat. He is not a malicious person, but he is a sensitive person who has little tolerance for those who don't take responsibility for themselves. Be wary of taking anything you hear about him for granted. He is not well understood or well liked outside of the Labyrinth.” Magdalene advised her.

 

“I'll keep that in mind.” Jillian agreed.

 

Later the same evening Baltusar had returned carrying with him a large dense package wrapped in paper which he presented to Jillian with some personal pride.

 

“I hope this is to your liking. If you will try it on, I will finishing fitting it to you personally.” Baltusar promised.

 

Taking the package up into the loft, Jillian promptly unwrapped it to find a draping one shouldered white silk chiffon gown in a decidedly Grecian style. The waistband and shoulder accent was dyed a pail lavender with braiding. Jillian had never owned anything even half as beautiful. Though dense to the touch when she tried it on she found it had the appearance of being much lighter and breathed beautifully with movement that a high profile model back home would have killed for. While it fit her far better then she could have hoped for, it still needed some minor adjustments and so Jillian carefully made her way back bellow to present herself.

 

When she appeared Magdalene actually nearly dropped the sword she was polishing and, quickly recovering herself, rapidly stood to assist Jillian with the final steps.

 

“You look beautiful.” Magdalene remarked with genuine awe in her tone.

 

“Simplicity suits you. Though if you genuinely dislike it for any reason I can make changes. There is still time.” Baltusar assured her, quirking a grin at her obvious appreciation of his work.

 

“No. It's wonderful. You made this for me?” Jillian asked walking towards and turning about a little.

 

“I do have a small array of personal talents passed down to me in my former life. My mother was a seamstress, as you might recall. Good enough to suit even royalty, though she served mostly in the play houses. I'm glad to see I haven't lost my touch. You will turn heads.” He proclaimed proudly.

 

Baltusar remained long enough to make his minor alterations and produce for Jillian a pair of simple though elegant sandals to complete her outfit. He then kissed both women on either cheek and promised he would meet them in the morning at the castle.

 

Sending Jillian to bed, Magdalene gathered her things. She would go with Baltusar back to the castle and prepare the details of their processional walk and then retrieve Jillian in the morning. Meeting Blatusar at the door he held it open for her so that they could walk together to her pony.

 

“This business with Jillian may prove to be unwise.” Mag said once she knew they were safely out of earshot from the house.

 

“Have faith, Magdalene. There will be bigger concerns to worry about in the coming days. If Jareth loses the castle...”

 

“I know. We've already created a contingency plan if the worst happens. Jareth has agreed to abide whatever the Labyrinth knight's agree is the best course. Though I must admit I know little about what to expect. What will happen if they do put him to trial?” Mag asked.

 

“If he is found to be at fault they will banish him from the kingdom at worst and decree that no kingdom in good standing is to give him aid. Traditionally they would also strip him of his magical abilities, but because he was born outside of the Underground and because his gifts are natural to him and not like most of the other Good-neighbors they will not have the power to limit him completely. Jareth is an accomplished knight of the realm even without his powerful magic. He is not and will never be defenseless. We must try to be strong whatever may happen.” Baltusar explained diplomatically.  
  


~@~

 

The festivities began the following moring at first light. All was ready in both the kingdom and in the castle beyond the Goblin City which loomed ominously upon the hill at the center of the Labyrinth. All its banners representing past rulers flying except for Jareth's.

 

Jareth had no banner perhaps because he did not consider himself a real king, nor was he. The Goblin King had more in common with his Goodnaighbor cousins and was both a man and a magical being, recognized and also disregarded as someone of any real importance outside of the great maze.

 

Jareth preferred matters that way and had worked very hard over the centuries to keep his exact activities and purposes shrouded in obscurity. But now the worth of his Kingdom was destined to be put on display and, whether the other powers believed in him or not, no one could dispute the hearty magical significance of the Labyrinth or the castle that stood in the center of it.  
  
Jareth had ensured in his protection of the castle's greatest secrets and properties that once people entered the main hall, any time they tried to go anywhere outside of their designated quarters or from one of the great mirrored ballrooms, they would find themselves back where they started. Even Queen Mab herself was expected to respect the castle's boundaries unless invited by Jareth to do otherwise. While this meant that guests had limited access to the castles interior, most were free to enjoy the pavilions and gardens Jareth had linked directly to specific exit points within the castle's grounds and everyone was informed that it was ill advised to walk the maze itself with the understanding that it had its own interests that were not completely within Jareth's control. Respect of the magical nature of the kingdom was paramount and edicts regarding the matter had been passed down by the High Council on Jareth's behalf.

 

That much, he could rely on from them.  
  
The other purpose behind limiting guests to the ballrooms and to their personal quarters within their specific groups was to avoid any unwanted covert conversations. If people wanted to whisper and plot then Jareth saw no reason to give them the advantage of privacy in his own home. The ballrooms had any number of corners and semi sequestered areas for people to whisper and plot with each other in to their hearts content. Whether they realized it or not ,the goblins would be carefully listening and would report anything of interest to Jareth as the need to know occurred. While the goblins wouldn't catch everything, they would do their best and Jareth himself would be highly attentive to the goings on around him. 

 

It was enough for him.  
  
Though early in the day the great hall was already filling with people and the rooms in use would accommodate as many as necessary without ever seeming cramped. everyone would have as much breathing room as they required with perhaps the exception of Jareth himself who would not have the luxury of being comfortable no matter what kind of mask he put on for his observers benefit.  
  
The first order of business was to greet every great household personally as they arrived, with Queen Mab and the rest of her Council and entourage due to arrive last since it was they who were really the guests of honor and Jareth only the hosting kingdom.

 

After confering with Baltusar in between their nostalgic love making which had been ongoing since Baltusar had arrived, Baltusar had informed him that Hoggle, Sir Didymus, and the others would convene at Magdalene's home and escort Jillian to the castle so that she could enter with their party. He assured him that Jillian would know to remain silent until Queen Mab arrived and formally acknowledged them and that she had been prepared and properly attired. Knowing Baltusar's abilities, Jareth suspected Jillian would be a sight to see. All of his people would be.  
  
For Jareth's part, he had planned to be in his most menacing attire that day.   
  
He was dressed at firsrt light in his full black form-fitting goblin armor that made his shoulder mantel and heavy embroidered cape make him look much taller, much more feral, and much more menacing then he'd perhaps looked in years. Once again, Jareth had fashioned his hair in a large wild mane and one could have almost sworn his teeth and ears looked slightly more pointed then usual making all who looked upon him forget that he had any real humanness in him whatsoever. The horned amulets he always wore was hidden but its emblem rose up upon his breast plate. Another symbol of his power that would likely be lost on many.

 

Jareth, was in peak form. Baltusar had seen to that personally with his advice and more intimate ministrations.

 

Jareth's very life force permeating much of the the space within the castle because his magic was so tightly woven into everything around everyone. For this, there could be no question who was lord and master in this place. Jareth knew first impressions would be important. Furthermore, if he was to be seen as a villain if the realm and a dark sorcerer by most of the people in attendance, then that was the role he would cast himself in for the time being. There was little doubt that everyone would be taken back by his presence, even his own subjects were already on their guard having not seen the Goblin King put forth so much effort and ability in recent memory.

 

Everything was in place. Everything was ready to be set in whatever motion the other players wished things to flow. Jareth had decided he would not fight against the tides of fate nor would he cower before anyone. Queen Mab would expect the very best from him and he could feel her power, even now, pressing up against his own, weighing and measuring him from afar.  
  
Ultimately, Jareth was the Goblin King and there was a reason he had dominion over one of the most important, if misunderstood, species in the underground. He was determined live up to people's first expectations of him and then turn everyone on their ear when the time was right.

 

~@~  
  
Jillian awoke early, a little before sunrise to wash and prepare herself. As expected, Magdalene wasn't there and with Dunne gone as well the hovel felt large and empty. The feeling of being alone, completely alone for the first time since she had arrived was sobering.

 

Mag arrived with their entourage an hour after sunrise.

 

The party that was to escort Jillian to the castle consisted of Magdalene who was mounted on a white and gray Fell Pony and dressed in full pristine plate armor with her hair combed back in a tight efficient bun; behind her were fifteen armored goblins, some of the best and most Intelligent and educated Mag had trained. The goblin's in their party would be the only goblins in the castle that would be present in their real forms. Set behind them was an open seated platform being carried by four strange little fluffy black goats with long sturdy horns that curved back behind their head and then curled up at the tips. The four goats walked in a skipping kind of unison carrying the platform atop the elongated length of their horns and upon the platform was seated Sir Didymus and the sleeping Wiseman with his living bird head hat looking alert though bored.

 

An uncomfortable looking Hoggledressed in blue velvet and the child-like Tilly-Whim dressed in her pink Tulle ballerina dress sat with them. Occasionally the disguised female hob-goblin leaned over sweetly to whisper things into Hoggle's ear. Near the back of the procession was a enclosed seated box big enough for a human person to comfortably sit in with uncovered windows that allow the person inside to look out but also allowed others to look in. The box was being carried by four squat gragon like creatures with silly looking bulbous heads and were being guided by more of Mag's guards. Behind them was a final rag tag platoon of fifteen goblins soldiers.  
  
Upon stopping in front of her home, Mag swung down from her pony and approached the entrance of her home, not bothering to go directly in. When she knocked the door opened on its own accord catching Jillian by surprise while she was standing in the center of the room finishing her hair which was decorated with seed pear pins and shells.  
  
Magdalene smiled slowly at the impressive sight and, remaining just outside the entryway, bowed slightly encouraging Jillian to come to her as she offered her offered a gloved hand.  
  
"good morning, My Lady. Your box awaits you. Please permit me to take your hand and assist you to your seat. I will ride beside you. I promise. His majesty awaits our arrival in the castle."  
  
The arrival of Mag's procession brought with it another wave of anxiety in Jillian, especially after her friend bowed to her in greeting.   
  
The formal tone though necessary felt embarrassing to her. she said as she bowed in return. But ultimately Jillian went along with it all as graciously as she could. She'd lived with Mag long enough to know the knight was a professional through and through even among friends. She took her hand, perhaps grasping it a little tighter than she intended. Her heart beat so intensely, she could feel the blood rush to her head.   
  


Spotting Hoggle as they walked Jillian felt a wash of relief. About the only thing that would have made her feel better would have been if she could have ridden in with him instead of by herself.  
  
Jillian straightened her shoulders, trying to muster a formal air about her. She acknowledged the rest of the party with a respectful nod, but inwardly, she fought a compulsion to be sick.  
  
As she approached her own box, her heart sank a little. She felt somewhat uncomfortable at the prospect of being hoisted on the shoulders of others as if she were a monarch. She took the time to pay her respects to the carriers but time was pressing and she could do little more than nod. Jillian stepped into the box with the assistance of Mag. As the door shut behind her, she exhaled a long breath andn leaned into the back of her seat. Already, she felt overwhelmed by the burden of her position. She had the gown, the escorts, the prestige, but nothing could quell the nasty little voice reminding her that she had no real business doing any of it. She was no one. Just a human stuck in a fantastical land she knew almost nothing about.  
  
Jillian forced herself to breath and began to pep talk herself under her breath. “You can do this. Everyone here is on your side. You're not alone this time.”  
  
She held onto her serenity as her entourage passed through the growing crowds of strange and unusual beings. Many Curriers and servants of the various kingdoms and houses in attendance. The line of the walkway leading up to the castles entrance was flanked by ominous looking creatures and gold bodies human looking people with bangles. Jillian would later understand that the creatures were Jinn.

 

Magdalene explained as they went that Jareth's party would be announced first and the other prominent kingdoms would follow ending with the High Council itself. Once they were in position there would be a fair amount of waiting. Introductions could not begin until all of the guest had arrived.

 


	12. The Young Empyrean

Ariadne's favorite pastime when not concocting her secret spells and potions, was to eavesdrop on everything going on among the Empyrean. The tall regal woman was a very good spy who paid attention to every whisper, every word, every secret sordid thing that went on in the castle and sometimes beyond it. Ariadne insisted upon knowing everything at all times and as a result she had gotten into the habit of using her skills of sorcery to never sleep or hunger or thirst. she was like a piece of well maintained marble. Beautiful, timeless, and fixed.  
  
Ariadne had been around a long time. Much longer than anyone suspected. Longer than Elspeth or Ozias, longer than either of their parents. Ever drawn to power, Ariadne had been Elspeth's mother's nursemaid as an infant and rocked the child to sleep weaving her magic and biding her time. Ariadne had, of course, disappeared from public view from time to time over her impossibly long lifespan. For appearances sake it was a necessary precaution and her skills were vast enough that it was simple to alter her appearance and age to accommodate the belief that she was the accumulation of many generations before her, when really, she had used her secret magic to live on as one.  
  
In this present time and place she was Elspeth's personal servant and handmaiden. A position she'd served in to Elspath's mother before her untimely death. Her present position was one Ariadne had carefully cultivated. It was a place of great privilege, honor, and trust though Ariadne was neither honorable nor particularly trustworthy by nature. Nevertheless, she gave off an air of absolute devotion and demure loyalty when she secretly felt no such thing for anyone out side of herself.  
  
Naturally, Ariadne had been eavesdropping all through Elspeth's disagreements with her advisers and her discussions with her Keeper cousin before he had left. She particularly liked when Elspeth's advisers were trying to keep things from her, or better yet, when they were trying to make choices for their leader without her full consent. the fact that an invitation had arrived regarding the High Council's Centennial Ball a week before was of peak interest to her. Specifically for the fact of where in the Underground the festivities were to be hosted.  
  
Ariadne knew enough about the Goblin Kingdom to realize its vast potential and untested power and Ariadne hungered to grasp a piece of that power for herself. while she had long delighted in manipulating events within the Empyrean empire, Ariadne wanted more than the lofty sky kingdom could offer alone by now. She hungered to rule and she wanted to rule something less fleeting then the dying culture of the Empyrean that was only vaguely aware of their own long overdue decay.   
  
About the only person she absolutely knew that she had to be careful of was Oziar Sayer. He was not a stupid man nor was his loyalty and honor easily bought. There was many a time when Ariadne wished to simply kill him and be done with it. But ever patient she knew it would be easier and more effective to get rid of Elspeth's guardian and potential inheritor in a more conventional and less incriminating way. So she did nothing but stay away from him and present the most stoic and glossy surface she could muster whenever he was around. A surface that like smooth water under moonlight was mirror reflective instead of revealing.  
  
Ariadne did not need to spy to know that Elspeth would be furious that morning at the thought of actually having to leave for the Goblin Kingdom. Thanks in part to Ariadne's influence, Elspeth had developed a deep phobia of the ground kingdoms for which she had been raised to believe were not nearly as sophisticated as her own culture high in the sky. Sure enough the young woman was furious and no doubt behaving in a highly uncooperative manner that morning uncharacteristically ordering her servants and attendants about with unusual sharpness as the hurried to prepare her that morning.  
  
For now Ariadne needed only to wait and enjoy the resulting calamity.  
  


Ever the dutiful servant, for Ariadne was very good at fulfilling her role, the middle aged woman waited stoically in Elspeth's chambers and in an anticipatory manner had ordered the lesser servants to fetch the Empyrean several of her mask cases, more then a dozen, that each housed three to five masks of varying decoration, colors, size, and grandeur. Most had been apart of the royal family's collection for centuries and there was at least one for every generation that had been born.  
  
Ariadne waited silently for the impending storm, oh how she relished conflict in all its many forms.   
  
Elspeth opened the large doors to her inner chambers and huffed as she closed the large doors behind her. She stood in one place for a few moments, shutting her eyes and reflecting on the impending day.  
  
She hadn't meant to lose her temper in front of her advisors that morning when they'd innocently attempted to run through the course of events for her arrival in the Goblin City ; after all, serenity was the value that The Empyrean treasured the most. But Sayer was there to come to the rescue. As always. He had returned late the day before to update her about the preparations that had been made and to be apart of her party when they were to be presented. Elspeth didn't always like how Sayer could be happy about some of his responsabilities and she particularly resented it when he tried to tell her that she needed to do something that wasn't at all in line with what she actually wanted to do—usually, though, he was right and despite that he always had her best interests in mind, his leadership which was often better than hers annoyed her greatly.  
  
Elspeth drifted over to her small vanity table, sitting down on its cushioned stool and stared at herself in the mirror. Her large brown eyes were ashy with fatigue and uncharacteristic dark circles were appearing under her eyes. She had slept poorly through the night and the stress showed. Elspeth reached her fingers up to massage her cheekbones distractedly as she stared ahead, inspecting her tired face. Her eyes then drifted to the mirror's ornate frame. The mirror was the same one her mother used to sit in front of when Elspeth was a little girl. She remembered playing on the floor close by watching the former queen have her hair fixed, practice speeches, or even stare just like this at the end of long difficult days. It was the same white marble table with the reflective glass surface. The same scratches on the table's leg where the stool had hit too many times as generations of Empyrean queens had done those very same things for millennia.   
  
She blinked back her tears and choked back a sigh. She missed her mother dearly.  
  
Elspeth drew her spine up straighter, and unpinned her hair. In her haste that moring it was already coming undone and needed to be fixed.

 

"Ariadne," she called out softly.

 

She'd even inherited her mother's handmaiden, a golden-haired woman who embodied the very ideals of serenity as The Empyrean so loved. Her own former handmaiden, Teiss, was relegated to being an attendant at court. While she missed the friendship that they'd enjoyed every day for over fifteen years, she couldn't help but feel far more like a real queen when Ariadne was attending to her. There was something very special about her, indeed.

 

"Could you please assist me with my hair?"  She asked.  
  
Ariadne as always was at the ready to serve her mistress. When she stepped behind Elspeth, it was as if she'd been there all along. Ariadne undid the intricate seed pearl strands that had been carefully braided through the woman's hair. Undoing the intricate design without causing any discomfort as she loosed Elspeth's hair.   
  
"Do allow me to brush it through for you. You'r mother was very fond of this ritual with you when you were a little girl. She was always so proud of how you would hold so still. She would remark to me often how she knew you would one day become a great leader of our people whether you chose to sit upon the throne or not." The statement was true.  
  
Whenever possible Ariadne preferred to employ the tactic of real truth. It tended to better mask other denials and lies she might have otherwise employed in other situations.  
  
"Don't worry about the events of the Goblin Kingdom. I know you will represent our people with all the grace, beauty, and wisdom that has been your heritage and birthright since the beginning of time. In fact, I think you will find yourself quite apt to turn every head who gazes upon you and that is a mighty power indeed. But not the only gift, nor the most important one, at your disposal. Have you decided upon the Mask you will wear?"   
  
Elspeth smiled. Ariadne always seemed to know what to say to make her feel better. While she lacked Teiss' subversive sense of humor and vibrant personality, she possessed such an aura of elegance. At times Elspeth wondered if Ariadne remotely had any Empyrean royal blood running in her veins.  
  
"Thank you, Ariadne," Elspeth responded softly, her face folding into an appreciative smile. "That's very thoughtful of you."

 

She paused as she let her handmaiden's long, pale hands pull the ivory-handled and boar bristled hairbrush through her long brown hair. There was nothing as refreshing as the feeling of calmness and poise that came with a head of fully-brushed hair.  
  
Finally, she cast a glance at the window. They'd be traveling soon.

 

"As for the gowns..." Elspeth started, trailing off as she caught a glimpse of the aurora borealis beginning to fan itself over the western portion of the sky.

 

She permitted herself a smile.

 

The Empyrean possessed all the beauty of other parts of the world, and more. Her empire was truly breathtaking... She caught herself quickly. "I simply cannot decide. We will be there for days. I do love my emerald ensemble. And the white with red lace."

 

She drew in a deep breath, and the thought of Jareth and his transgressions crossed her fatigued mind.

 

"It'll be important that I make the most striking and commanding presence that I can," she added wryly.   
  
"Yes, my lady. If you wish it, it is sure to be so." Ariadne affirmed, having no doubt in her own mind that the woman would surpass her own expectations.

 

 

Truth be told, Elspeth hated her mask regalia. All of her masks were hand-crafted in the Empyrean artisans' workshop in the palace, the very same one she often poked her head into to see what works were underway amongst those granted access to its use.

 

When she was a child, she'd wait until her governess fell asleep in the afternoon, as she was so prone to do, and sneak into the great hall where the masks were put on display for guests to see during public court or significant functions. She'd always peered up at the dozens of masks shining from their dependable posts upon the great stone walls, wondering how it was that the sunshine never tarnished their quality. What a sad day it was when she discovered that those masks on display were replicas--the real masks were stored safely in a guarded wing. They were still well cared-for, but part of the romanticized aspect of wearing the masks on the wall that she'd grown up seeing had been just slightly dashed.  
  
Those who took care of the masks were masters of their craft. She was so surprised upon examining the secured masks to discover that while durable, they were also light and easy to breathe through.  
  
What she hated, perhaps, wasn't the regalia itself—but the stark reminder of her parents' memory.  
  
But as much as she hated her mask regalia, it felt far more inconvenient to suffer the idea of being required to wear it when outside of the kingdom. She'd only been out and about a few times, but never on The Ground. But today marked the day where her feet would walk on solid earth for the first time.

 

Once she picked her traveling mask, it would be time to go.

 

~@~

 

Marten tugged at his collar as beads of sweat already began to trickle down his neck. Dedric insisted that he wear the lined dress shirt despite the heat. The temperature would drop once they were out of Astraea, but until then he was roasting. His brother approached, donned in white and gold and gave him a firm clap on the back.  
  
"Let's go see all those loving faces" he said smiling widely  
  
"Loving faces. Right." replied Marten as he watched his brother practically leap onto the wagon that would be parading them through the Goblin City eventually.

 

It never ceased to amaze him how quickly the man could go from being gruff and business-like to warm and sprightly. Dedric offered an arm and helped hoist him up. Dedric took his place at the head of the wagon while Marten took a seat on a bench behind him. He detested nothing more than these overblown processions. They were all the same: Dedric basking and beaming in the light of his people's adoration, the same people who subsequently cast scorns and jeers like stones at the younger, exiled prince and still he had to wave. Still he had to smile and carry on, numb himself against the world and be a martyr to it.  
  
The half-hour ride through the main kingdom felt endless, especially in his hot clothing but eventually it would be over. Then he could crawl into the confides of the royal carriage and peel off some of his regalia.   
  
Three weeks, he thought. 

 

Nearly three entire weeks away from that damnable castle.  That was how long their Journey would take even with the help of the linking magical forests.

 

Marten hadn't been away from home since his sentencing. The High Council granted him the privilege to travel specifically for this event. For his part in his exile, Marten's behavioral record had been spotless for twenty-five years outside of the one incident of peeking into his daughter's world. He could feel years of tension melt from his shoulders as he watched the city shrink into the distance. It was strange how he much prefered being away from it.  
  
"I'm going to miss the place too." he heard a wistful Dedric say, realizing his brother was mistaking his expression for homesickness.  
  
Later on when they were well away on their journey Dedric pressed his fingers into his temples and attempted to massage out a headache that had started when the carriage crossed onto the rocky, bakes ground several miles away from great maze and the Goblin City.  
  
"You'd think Jareth would have considered that some of us would be coming in on foot." Marten grumbled unhappily. "I swear that is the third enormous washed-out gulley we've had to drive through."  
  
Dedric watched Marten roll his eyes unsympathetically. His younger sibling never fully understood the importance of a king being serene and centered when entering the realm of politics nor did he seem to care about his brothers discomfort or unhappiness.  
  
Their train consisted of a small fleet of foot soldiers, several wagons bearing wine and fruit as a token to their host, a small ensemble of musicians, and several of their finest horses that shared a similar appearance to the Andalusian breeds of the Aboveground. Dedric and Marten would mount their own shortly in preparation of entering the city proper.  
  
The early afternoon sun managed to penetrate through the hazy sky and through the carriage windows.

  
"Shut those blinds, brother. The light is doing nothing to alleviate this pounding in my skull." Marten begged.  
  
When his brother ignored him Marten scowled and prepared to close them himself but was stayed when he caught his first glimpse of the great maze ahead of them. He drew in a breath. Even from a distance, he could see banners for the Forgotten Desert, Empyrean, and other kingdoms that had arrived. Life around the castle seemed to flourish more than he had expected...it looked greener, fresher than how Dedric had described the place.

  
"Looks like the Astraean Spring has beaten us here." Dedric commented approvingly, though he was secretly surprised and unsure if the greening land scape had anything to do with them at all.  
  
Dedric leaned out, arching a brow. Marten knew his brother would mask his surprise.  
  
"Huh. So it would appear....Oh, and look, even the Arid Flats look just as clean and inviting as I remember." This was a scornful remark by Dedric about the fact that the great junky hills had only been closed off and not remotely altered in any way.

 

Dedric hated anything that wasn't perstine and beautiful to they eye.  
  
Marten sighed, refusing to let Dedric's deceptively charming and calculated mood spoil his own rare happiness. He was actually looking forward to seeing Jareth once again and resented any criticism of the man by his brother who openly disliked the Goblin King and who knew almost nothing meaningful about him.

 

Marten hadn't spoke with Jareth since he sent him to the Aboveground with a letter addressed to the people that took in his daughter. Under the conditions of his exile, as well as Dedric's watchful eye, he had to express his gratitude in the form of a letter smuggled from the castle. Marten was a much bolder man then; and now he hoped the Goblin King wouldn't scoff too terribly at his current pitiful state. 

 

~@~  
  
The luckdragons, ten in total, descended upon the upper landing of the castle, not far from the tower where Jareth had considerately chosen to house The Empyrean and her entourage. Sayer stood by vigilantly, watching the flying beasts as they all touched down expertly. Elspeth's personal fleet was smaller, and made up of more nimble flaying horse like creatures than the dog faced luckdragons that had spirited Sayer and his knights from The Sky to The Ground upon their arrival.   
  
Elspeth descended from atop her own magical beast, much to Sayer's chagrin. He strode to her side and walked alongside her. She could feel his chastising eyes boring through her blue-and-white travel mask.

 

"Riding your Pegasus in instead of one of our luckdragons is not considered Empyrean-like conduct," he reminded her gently, but predictably.  
  
Elspeth didn't allow him a verbal reaction, simply walking on as she felt she ought to.

 

It was rare that she didn't provide a snappy comeback or outright comply with Sayer's recommendations. Besides, who was he to tell her that she couldn't ride the Pegesus that she'd trained and loved since she was a small child?

 

"We appear to be on time," she reported, her voice not obscured by the covered mouth of the mask. "Who has arrived below?"  
  
"The Astraeans," Sayer answered dutifully, nodding to two of his knights ready to open the door leading into their private chambers. "Here is our home for the duration of your visit."  
  
Elspeth waited until the doors were shut to remove her headpiece and mask, her long brown hair covered by the blue scarf that had also edged the mask itself.

 

"It'll do," she said quietly, not wanting to admit that she was quite impressed with whatever trick had been pulled to adorn the ceiling so beautifully. "We've arrived with plenty enough time to prepare for the ball. Ariadne is not far behind."  
  
Sayer nodded and gestured toward her chambers. "

 

“Then you'd better be on your way." he remarked quietly, watching her gather her skirts and move forward, shutting the door behind her.

 

He knew she'd be poor company until she permitted herself to have a good time. He was sure that the only person who'd know how to deal with her otherwise would indeed be Ariadne, as much as he hated to admit it.  
  
Sayer exited back onto the landing and decided to keep an eye out for the handmaiden to pass the time.  
  
As was customary Ariadne was due to arrive on the tail of everyone else. It was her duty to ensure everything had been packed correctly and that all the lesser servants under her were in top form that were coming with the Lady Empyrean as well as those where were to stay behind and manage the basic functions of the kingdom.  
  
The other benefit of this duty was that Ariadne had plenty of her own time to prepare for the journey to the Underground.

It was time to change things.

 

Ariadne had served the Empyrean in one way or a other for centuries, whether the current leaders realized it or not. Much of her magical abilities were rooted in her attempts to remain ageless and flawless in everything she did. Yet immortality was not natural to the Empyrean people and the cost of Ariadne's maintenance had been astronomical. All magic came with a price whether it came naturally to an individual or was learned or acquired later. Ariadne had taken about as much as could be taken from the empire without it completely crumbling.  
  
The time had come for a change of scene.   
  
The Labyrinth was the most ideal candidate for her relocation in centuries. Its largest appeal being that the kingdom was naturally regenerative, meaning there would be no plausible limit to what Ariadne could utilize for her own interests. Unlike many of the powers that were currently in route to the castle, Ariadne had no interest in the Kingdom or Jareth specifically.

 

Her ambition was not to seize the kingdom. Rather, she desired only to immerse herself into the flow of its neutral magic. Magic that she would intimately twist to her own desires and needs. As a sorceress her own power and knowledge likely rivaled Jareth's, but was perhaps more limited despite that she was more mobile than he was. Once the Goblin King caught onto her presence and intentions he would surely find it difficult to isolate her from the greater design.  
  
Ariadne planned to seduce and entice the labyrinth as much as she repelled it. in this way it would both resist and accommodate her will until she was so integrated into the old magic that it would naturally protect her interests.  
  
But the business was complicated.

 

In the past when Ariadne had need to change her identity it was a simple matter of retiring as her old self for awhile and re-emerging as a slightly new identity. But this time wouldn't be so easy. Ariadne intended to create a diversion that would cause the Empyrean Empire to take up issue with Jareth and fan the flames of their distrust for him. This meant that she would have to fake a terrible demise that would free her up to conduct her business and caste suspicion on Jareth and his people.

 

There were stories, of course, that assassinations were not unheard of in the kingdom. Ivor the Hammer Fist was proof of that. Ariadne was a master at spinning the sins of the past into the realities of the present. she simply needed to bide her time.  
  
The final loading of the luckdragons was almost finished.

 

Ariadne was due to mount and arrive within the half hour. It was time to summon her favorite pets in preparation for their arrival.

 

Reaching into her skirts Ariadne removed a handful of small obsidian stones carved with vicious little faces. Kneeling as if to secure one of the last of her personal boxes, Ariadne poured them onto the ground and removed a small vial that was disguised as one of her teardrop earrings. Unplugging the stopper she gentle poured the small liquid contents over the stones and made a mooching sound as if she was calling a small animal to attention. within seconds the stones broke apart revealing little black gremlins about the size of bats with yellow eyes and sharp toothed mouths that chattered and bickered to each other in some sort of chattering language.  
  
Ariadne smiled almost lovingly and opened her box which the creatures promptly climbed into. she then stood. It was time to leave the Empire for the last time. Ariadne had no intention of ever returning.  
  
True to form a half hour behind her mistress, Ariadne arrived. Dismounting on the platform and moving elegantly and in a calm and reserved manner toward Ozias. "I assume my lady is inside.”

 

“Inside and in a most unbecoming mood.” Ozias remarked.

 

”I see. Let us see if we can improve her temperament before its time to be announced." Aridne replied moving past him.  
  
Ariadne offered Ozias a placid though friendly smile and for once her benevolence was completely genuine instead of its usual fabrication. And why shouldn't the sorceress be generous? The Lady Empyrean was about to get her first taste at real leadership and even Ariadne, who normally didn't take real pleasure in anything, was very interested in seeing how Elspeth fared.  
  
"You have to do it." Ariadne said firmly a short time later inside Elspeth's private chambers.  
  
The Empyean empire was due to be announced within the hour and in classical style Ariadne was going over the expected protocols of the announcement ceremony that all the kingdoms were required to participate in.  
  
At the moment, Elspeth was in the middle of taking issue with the finer points of what she was expected to do when she came face to face with the Goblin King.  
  
Elspeth shook her head as she smoothed her hair back in a frustrated manner before sleekly repining it to make her mask easier to apply and wear for long periods of time. Her clear face was devoid of any makeup or pigment of any kind--but was beginning to cloud with a burgundy tones, standing out against her pure-white ensemble.

 

"There's no reason Sayer can't do it," she grumbled back, refusing to look Ariadne in the eye as she gazed ahead into the massive mirror above the silver vanity table, a fixture Jareth had supposedly picked out just for her.  
  
"Actually, there's every reason that Sayer can't do it." Ozias said decidedly.  
  
Elspeth glanced over her shoulder at the sound of his voice. Her cousin stood in the doorway, armored arms folded across his metal-plated chest, the pinned drape of fabric bearing the Empyrean crest clipped to his shoulders.

 

Elspeth didn't waste any time with her rebuttle.

 

"But you're the one who's got the relationship with The Goblin King," she spat sullenly, refusing to acknowledge their host by name.  
  
Part of her knew that she was being more than absurd. Part of her knew that there was every reason for her to be the one to lead the procession and greet Jareth. Part of her knew that by this time in her life she should be able to just let certian hurts go. But where Jareth was conserned she could not bring herself to do it.

 

She'd never even been face-to-face with him before, she argued in her own mind.

 

Sayer had and could continue to insist that she was being unreasonable, but to Elspeth's way of thinking she had every single reason to feel affronted by him. If she had her way she fantasized that she would have him arrested where he stood if he even dared think of setting foot into her skyborne kingdom one day. Yet, here she was standing in HIS subterranean kingdom, on HIS turf, taking temporary residence in HIS castle, partaking in his food, his drink... It was insufferable.  
  
"Elspeth." Sayer gave a short nod to Ariadne, stony and steadfast in her expression. "Ariadne's right. You're The Empyrean. This is your first Centennial Ball, and your first major engagement in your position. You must do right by all of us and represent us."  
  
She let out a small growl through her teeth, then shook her head. "I just won't do it."  
  
Sayer glanced again at Ariadne. A smirk suddenly appearing at the corner of his mouth just slightly before he schooled it into a more refined expression. "Okay, Elspeth. You win."  
  
A small part of Elspeth's ego loved hearing those words.

 

Elspeth smiled satisfactorily and turned to the large table not far from Sayer, reaching her hands out for her mask. Sayer watched as Ariadne seemed to gracefully fly to the table deftly picking up the strong, light, simple mask, adorned with feathers and the very slightest crystal detail. She placed the mask upon Elspeth's ready face personally.

 

"Thank you, Sayer," Elspeth drawled out, hardly muffled by the material. "It means a great deal to me."  
  
He turned on his heels and gestured toward the door.

 

"Onward we go," he said warmly.

 

Sayer let the younger woman lead the way as she reached two small gloved hands to pick up her skirts. Ariadne shot a quick glance at a few of Elspeth's attendants; they scurried forth to follow behind her as part of the procession, dressed in robes of sunshine yellow and cerulean blue, but devoid of masks, themselves.  
  
Sayer and Ariadne stood in the room, watching after them.

 

"I'm going to slip away once we get into position," he informed the handmaiden. "Trickery is the only way we were going to get her out there."

 


	13. The Exiled Prince Rising

The Labyrinth was bracing itself.   
  
With the influx of so many new and strong personalities all arriving at once and the presence of so many non indigenous magical species to the kingdom, the maze almost groaned in its obligation to accommodate them all.

 

Some groups that were arriving attracted the spirit of the maze's attention, like the Astraeans whose people and magic was similar to the Labyrinth's own energies and hungers. But there were other groups that seemed to repel the Labyrinth and cause a kind of oppressive feeling for it like the Empyrean whose primarily leader was to descend to the ground for the first time.

 

It was possible that the Labyrinth's attitude was somehow a reflection of Jareth's own projected anxieties, and this would not have been such a far fetched theory if it were not for the fact that while the Labyrinth and Jareth were consciously linked, their subconscious wants and needs were separate and unique to each individually. Indeed Jareth's primary relationship in his life was the Labyrinth itself. Even the goblins took second place over the wants and needs of the great maze and that was one of the many seldom understood and known truths about the kingdom and Jareth's position there.  
  
Jareth could feel the Astraeans arrive.

 

He found himself privately relieved at the thought that both the ruling brother and the outcast one had come with their party.

 

While Jareth had had personal dealings with Marten who was a weak but redeemable man, Jareth had had little reason or desire to deal with Dedric the older brother and present king of the Astraeans. When Marten had been punished, Jareth had been included in the formal inquirers by the High Council and had originally acted as a character witness who spoken in Marten's defense. Jareth had been honest about what he'd seen in the man. Technically, despite his position as the Goblin King, Jareth was also considered a figure among the ranks of the Goodneighbors (a collective grouping of magical men and women able to cross worlds in the interest of aiding those that fell in some way into the human vein). Jareth provided less services than others who shared his duties but nevertheless he had his obligations just like any of the Goodneighbors did.  
  
Jareth, however, didn't generally discriminate when it came to the type of people he was willing to help. Some had spoken against his bargain with Marten. But Jareth had always defended his role in the business reminding his critics that it was not in his nature or interest regarding Marten or the nature of their agreement he had provided the prince to pass judgement against him.

 

All in all, Jareth would be glad to see Marten again; even if he hadn't thought about the man in a long time.  
  
as for the Empyrean...Jareth's reactions and, vice verse, Elspeth's would be hard to predict.

 

Ozias had made it clear in no uncertain terms that Jareth should expect resistance if not outright defiance and misplaced anger from Elspeth. in some ways he was almost expecting another Sarah Williams on his hands. Nevertheless, Jareth hoped that the young lady Empyrean would indeed live up to her hype. At least then, Jareth could respect her for her spirit. if not the depth of her understanding of him or her understanding regarding the differing perspectives of the worlds they ruled over and their individual roles there in.  
  
It was all bound to be very....Interesting.  
  
The Astraean nobles and their representatives approached the wall that surrounded the Goblin City and the labyrinth.

 

Dedric watched a distracted Marten lean towards the window, shoulders slumped, hands clasped, one thumb tapping an anxious beat against his wrist. Marten, like most Atraeans, struggled in concealing his emotions. Dedric on the other hand was well practiced in the art of revealing nothing but a facade of cordial charm and impeccable manners. However, within the walls of the carriage, he hid none of his growing irritation at the state of his younger brother. He found it unseemly for a ruler, even an exiled one, to show any kind of nervousness or apprehension when conducting business outside of their kingdom's borders.   
  
"Will you stop that!" he snapped, leaning forward to slap Marten's restless hands. "And sit up straight. They're going to present you like a real prince for a change, so start acting like one."  
  
Marten straightened his shoulders, Dedric's words doing nothing to ease his anxiety. He knew he had a real chance to prove to the High Council that twenty-five years under exile had changed him for the better and that he had freed himself from the clutches of Darkness' influence and was ready to reclaim his place and perform his rightful duties as a prince of Astraea. All he had to do was not choke. He just had to stay close to his brother, pay a little lip service to Queen Mab, admit his wrongs if asked, and carry himself with the confidence and ease of a man who had never known shame.

 

Simple.  
  
  
The carriage halted. It was time.  
  
From seemingly out of nowhere, flower petals began to fall on the main road that lead to the castle. In the distance, came the echoing of bells and flutes as well as a chorus of voices chanting;  
  
 _Ringle-rangle, ringle,rangle...._  
  
Flickering lights whizzed to the front of the parade. They rained a shower of sparks before transforming into their full size. In a flash, about a dozen winged creatures, a little smaller than the average human danced and sang in merriment, donned in glittering thin cloth that appeared to grow from their bodies. Some transformed their appearance to look just like some of the onlookers in the crowd. Following them were the childlike greenies. Donned in thick, woven cloths of brown, they bounded in playing pipes and rattling tambourines. Others performed acrobatic feats, flipping and tumbling with incredible energy. The last of the representing fae were the dwarves. Some pounded deer hide drums, others handed out tiny bottles of wine, and others performed their own set of tricks for the onlookers. A loud clanging of bells signaled a brief silence and then all the creatures began to sing:  
  
 _Deep there above the greenery  
Meddle and mischief sing the Wee  
Hidden among the greenery  
"We are the Free-Folk," sing the Wee_  
  
 _Nettles and nuisance bring the Wee  
Tingle and tangle sing the Wee  
Under the forest canopy  
"We are the Free-Folk," sing the Wee  
  
Tatter and scatter bring the Wee  
Freckle and fumble sing the Wee  
Getting you from behind a tree  
"Fun is a wonder," sing the Wee  
  
_  
Illusions of forest animals appeared and bounded through the parade. Deer trotted along greenies, rabbits hopped around the sprites' feet, and birds looped and darted around banners. One of each magical being proceeded to the front, joined hands, and sang:  
  
 _We are the Wee_  
As you can see  
So wild and free  
So sing the Wee  
  
This would be the first Centennial Ball in which the beings of the forest would have proper representation. Despite the ills Astraea suffered under Lord Darkness' curse, the union of the woodman Jack and the Astraean Princess Lili had brought a deeper understanding and friendship between the humans of the kingdom and the creatures of the forest. Their reign, though marred by some infighting, had brought forth a stronger bond and respect between the two cultures. Under Jack and Lili's rule, Astraea had become a truly fair kingdom in which all voices were heard and goodness and endless spring reigned supreme. The party of sprites, greenies, and dwarves, collectively known in Astraea as the Wee, symbolized that bond and trust; they were the overseers and watchers of the forests of the Unicorn. Astraea's defining glory.  
  
Unicorns were a rare and incredibly important element to the Underground.

 

As the purest of all creatures, they were believed to anchored the Light to the Underground and kept the scales from tipping towards that of Darkness. The Unicorns only lived in Astraea, leading many interested scholars to debate if they stayed there because of the eternal spring, or if their very lifeforce and presence was what kept the spring in Astraea. One thing was certain, the nobles and denizens alike made the creatures protection their highest priority. Mostly as a means of keeping their otherwise unsteady world tethered towards the Light. The people of Astraea, too, were encouraged to keep their own hearts pure and serene at all times.

 

To symbolize the pure spirit of Astraean life, several dozen young maidens clothed in soft pastels paraded behind the Wee. They carried the banners of the kingdom and performed another important piece of music. They sang Lili's song, a beautiful trilling of the loveliest voices in the kingdom:  
  
 _Come down sparrow, sing me good morning._  
Rise up sun like the arch of the sky.  
Living river, turn light to diamonds  
When I look in my true love's eyes.  
Like a child feels watching a rainbow.  
Like a bird feels the first time it flies.  
I feel magic stirring within me,  
When I look in my true love's eyes.  
Young as any spring, his eyes almost sing.  
  
Come white moss, weave us a carpet  
Spreading oak make a shade where we lie.  
Leaves and branches, whisper a love song,  
When I look in my true love's eyes.  
Young as any spring, his eyes almost sing to me   
  
Come down sparrow, sing me good morning.  
Rise up sun like arch of the sky.  
Living river, turn light to diamonds  
When I look in my true love's eyes.  
_____

  
Dedric and Marten followed close behind at the very center of the parade as they traveled through the unimpressive Goblin City. Dedric's horse was white and gray with a long, elegant waved mane. Its bridle was adorned in bluebells in the same soft shade of blue as the enormous mantle that graced Dedrics shoulders. The rest of his ensemble consisted of a cream-colored tunic underneath a cream and gold embroidered vest. He wore a fitted pair of tan breeches and dark brown knee high boots. A gold crown topped his head.

  
Marten rode beside him, his steed in shades of black dappled it in white, starbursts that dotted its his hindquarters in constellations. He wore his standard black attire nearly from head to toe, save for his cuffs, gold collar, his own gold vest, and a cape that hung across his chest and over his shoulders in an unbecoming shade of lavender. His own crown was a simple gold band that hung a little loosely on top of his limp hair.  
  
Dedric maintained a warm, jolly persona as he waved at the detestable creatures of the city.  
He hated goblins and everything about them. He found them to be ugly-spirited little brutes with selfish, self-serving hearts and a thirst for dark magic. They gravitated to darkness and power. He would never forget the story of Blix, Lord Darkness' right hand man, and the one Dedric's ansecstors had found solely responsible for the near murder of the unicorn stallion. To him, it was that wretched animal Blix, more so than his sweet mother, who in actuality had been the one to nearly destroy Astraea. In Dedrics mind and twisted justification Blix was the one who shot the dart and it had been Blix who stole the uni-horn. Never mind the rest of the story.  
  
Upon vanguishing Lord Darkness, Dedric's father had successfully drove the lot of Darness' remaining minions deep into the swampsland and into the mucky mires with the swamp-witches where they belonged. 

  
The notion of having to be amiable around the little monsters who, were not even the same species of goblin, as well as having to deal with their keeper was the biggest thorn in Dedric's side. He was the first of his family to have any real goals outside of his kingdom's borders. Astraea was an integral part of the whole Underground, but no one before seemed interested in expanding its influence, especially his poor parents who were content with making house calls to commoners and frolicking in the forest rather than conducting any actual Statecraft or actual work in the interest of their people.  
  
Behind the royal party came wagons filled to the brim with foods, ales, and other gifts for the hosts. At the rear, marched a fleet of royal guardsmen.  
  
At last, the train came to a halt before the castle several yards away as they waited to know what order the would enter.  
  
The announcement ceremony featured more than a dozen kingdoms from across the underground. Just a few of which included representatives from the Earthlong and Drow elven people, Several dwarven clans, and representative parties lead by the child-like Ozma of Oz, the White Queen of Underland, and representatives from the Empyean Empire and Never Neverland. A large assortment of Goodneighbors from across the Underground were also presently inside along with many individual magical folk and general Underground people who held no particular titles but who served various functions in the surrounding lands.  
  
One by one the titled parties came once his own party had solemnly entered and taken their positions behind Jareth. During this process Jillian had remained stone still in her carrier, here eyes wide with fear. When it was time to step from her box, both Magdalene and Baltusar came to escort and sheild her as he walked the few steps to stand upon the dias behind him. To her relief her presense seemed not to cause any alarm and she seemed to be largely ignored.

 

Once in place the other great houses began to enter and were one by one announced by Scheherazade, so that they could then face Jareth in the main and vast throne room before taking there assigned places in the space.  
  
Jareth greeted them all in accordance with tradition.

 

Most he'd only ever heard stories about and some he'd never heard of at all. As they came Jareth studied their parties, mentally making notes regarding what their appearances and demeanor s revealed. The lesser houses where coming in first as well as individuals from the High Council who had come ahead of Queen Mab.

 

Ozma of the Kingdom of Oz was one such individual and one Jareth planned to speak to about an alliance in the future between she and the child-like Empress whom was currently serving as a somewhat removed member of the High Council. He could also detect signs of a few who looked eager to bring forth their own business when the time was right. Many of the rulers were women, a common occurrence in the Underground considering Queen Mab, being a female herself and the embodiment of great mothers everywhere, bore so much influence across the lands.  
  
Finally, the proceedings were due to conclude with only the Empyrean Empire and the Kingdom of Astraea left to be announced.

 

Jareth found it ironic that the two groups had managed to be left for last. Jareth had had dealings with both and was curious to see their reactions to his presence. The Empyrean specifically was of personal interest given that if things had turned out differently it might have been he and Elspeth greeting the Kingdoms in the procession as husband and wife, and mutual leaders of the Empyrean empire. Granted, while she was here Jareth would never actually see Elspeth's face since the traditions of her people required her to remain masked, but nevertheless Jareth was deeply curious about the young woman who by all reports deeply hated him.

Jareth was of course good at being cast in the role of villain by now and with a bitter thought he hoped he didn't disappoint the Empyrean, whatever she thought of him.  
  
Eventually, Dedric and Marten dismounted and took their place near the rear of the line. Marten took his position behind Dedric who was to lead their party inside.   
  
"Feeling nervous, brother?" he heard Dedric ask.  
  
Of course this was a redundant question. As much as he tried, Marten was a true Astraean and struggled to mask his emotions. Still, he tried to maintain a casual air, running a hand through his hair as he gave a shrug.  
  
"Oh, a bit I suppose," he said. "But I think things will go smoothly as long as I keep my head down. Besides, you're the one who's about to step in the spotlight."  
  
"About that," Dedric responded still facing forward.

 

Marten caught a note of humor in his voice he was not sure he liked. 

  
"I believe I forgot to mention that I spoke with Queen Mab before we left home. She and I have both agreed that you should be the representative of the kingdom. After all, you need a proper opportunity to show how you've improved, and to exhibit your skills in diplomacy. She wants to see if you would be prepared to take on your duties as a prince should she decide to free you from exile."  
  
Dedric finally turned to a stunned Marten with a somewhat mischievous glimmer in his eyes.   
  
"My, Brother. And here I thought you couldn't get any paler." He said almost wickedly.  
  
Dedric only felt slightly displeased about having to step from the spotlight on this one, reasoning that he could conduct business much easier as a result. While Marten fumbled through the formalities, he could watch the floor and plan his future meetings with the Underground's upper echelon.   
  
The younger sibling stared into the approaching doorway as if it were the entrance to a slaughterhouse. The terrified prince slowly shook his head. 

  
"Do you think it wise? I-I mean I haven't really been in a position of leadership in decades, and I certainly don't possess your mind for diplomacy, I'm shamefully unpracticed in court affairs, I'll make everyone uneasy, and what if I'm called to speak? You know my voice doesn't carry well a-and-" Marten should have been ferious with his brother for waiting till the final moments of their announcement to tell him of this, but at the present he was too shocked to be angry.  
  
Dedric sighed, grabbing the man's shoulder and turning him towards him.

  
"You're going inside and meeting your friend, not your doom. Relax, little brother. It's nothing more than politics. Now, straighten your back, tilt that chin up..." Dedric encouraged.  
  
Dedric fixed Marten's collar and smoothed his cape over his shoulders. He gave a firm clap to his back.  
"...and breathe for goodness sake. You can do this."  
  
Dedric rarely expressed affection towards his bother in the public eye, but he temporarily stepped down from his position as Marten's hard-nosed warden to ease his nerves.  
  
He then unclasped his own mantle and passed it on to a servant. He also removed his crown and swapped it for his brother's more simple circlet, an action that prompted gasps of shock and smiles of approval from some of their party. It wasn't like Dedric to be so humble, but he felt the action would set him up to be the warm, shining star the rest of the Underground was expecting to see. Even kind deeds could be strategic moves in Dedric's book. Some small factions back home had begun to see him as a power thirsty egoist, an image he planned to conceal from the others. Even the party was hand picked to ensure attendees were sympathetic to his rule.  
  
He still expected to outshine his brother, but he wanted to do so as little as possible. Not only would he be free to carry out his plans to build alliances, he would also be able to evaluate Marten. He was as curious as anyone to see how he would perform. On one hand, he would be sad to lose the best helper and servant that he'd ever had, but he would also be thrilled to see Marten freed from his terrible reputation once and for all suspecting that the man would choose to leave their Kingdom for far of places unknown.  
  
Dedric was right, Marten thought as he slowly got control of himself.

 

It was high time that Marten showed his true capabilities as a leader. He had the knowledge and skill, he just needed to channel some of Dedric's confidence and control. The Queen of the Forgotten Desert called his name. He stepped to the front of the line and led his group into the receiving hall and throne room.  
  
Marten could feel countless eyes watching him. In some of them he caught expressions of curiosity, apprehension, and disgust. Marten willed himself to maintain his dignity, to carry himself like a proper nobleman. He knew he was trying too hard. His posture felt too stiff, his jaw clamped tensely, and even the rhythm of his footsteps seemed too calculated. The burdens of his over thinking eased however as he neared Jareth. His face softened and a hint of a real smile tugged at his lips. He clasped the Goblin King's arms with an unexpected enthusiasm.  
  
"We come in friendship, we come in unity."  
  
Marten didn't have any friends to speak of, but he considered Jareth to be the closest thing he ever had in the Underground to one. While their whole world seemed divided as to whether or not he was a good man, Marten saw in Jareth a kindred spirit, another individual whose actions both shook the realm and brought uncertainty to his kingdom's future. Perhaps he didn't know Jareth that well, but he had an inkling that he shared the same regrets, that he too was haunted by his own twisting past. He knew how it felt to be hated, feared and kept at a distance from the rest of society. Much of the realm had a very fixed definition as to what goodness meant, and it made no room for the likes of men like them: men who had made unsavory choices in the past and aimed to change. For many, good and evil was a black and white matter; there was no standing in between.  
  
Marten remembered approaching him, how he had once thrown himself at JArethempty-handed and desperate knowinf that Jareth had conditions tied to his ability to travel to the Above. To Marten's surprise all those years ago when they had first met Jareth had heard him out and had been willing to bargin with him free of judgment or scorn. The memory strengthened him and Marten's gratitude and admiration of the man standing before him shone through his face. Perhaps at last he would get a chance to thank the Goblin King in person for saving his little girl.

 

To Marten's great disappointment Jareth met his eyes and did nothing more then offer his prescribed reply.

 

"You may go in friendship. We are all united in peace."

 


	14. Farce and Familiarity

  
Soon after Marten and his people took their place it was time for the Empyrean Empire to make their entrance.

 

Sayer stayed at Elspeth's side all the way until they entered the receiving hall just before the were directed into the throne room before, just when Elspeth was most distracted, he slipped to the side into the crowd leaving her to her own devices.

 

It wasn't until Scheherazade the Queen of the Forgotten Desert called her name that Elspeth realized that Sayer wasn't beside her anymore. Silently cursed to hellfire behind her mask, thankful to have the exterior shell to conceal her surprise the sudden bolt of frustration and anger that followed. Of course he would do something like this. Now of all times.  
  
Now Elspeth would have no retreat.

 

Ill prepared to go it alone Elspeth looked ahead into the vast ballroom surprised in spite of her training at the sheer assortment of emissaries and attendees from far-off lands. For it being such a backwards kingdom, the formality assigned to this grand event surprised the young Empyrean as she took a step ahead.

 

She could see hundreds of heads turn in her direction at the sound of her name. Undoubtedly, many of those gathered had never seen her before--at least, not in the traditional mask garb of generations of Empyrean royalty. The unspoken mythology of Empyrean rulers who wore masks beyond the borders of the kingdom that existed high among the clouds was easily on their lips and minds as they measured her against their own expectations. Very few of them had ever ascended into the clouds to visit her kingdom, where no one had to wear masks. Surely at least one of them would have met her at home at some point, to provide some kind of friendly or familiar face.

 

But no. There was no one. Not even Sayer could be seen through the sea of bodies.

  
Feigning confidence she did not feel, Elspeth strode ahead, seemingly floating along in place as she'd practiced for so long. She kept her focus ahead, not wishing to distract herself any longer from her goal: getting away from Jareth as quickly as possible.  
  
Finally, she stood before the tall man with his strange almost elf-like features.

 

Elspeth worked hard to stare at the middle of his forehead only instead of into Jareth's slightly mismatched eyes, not wishing to give him the benefit of a full lock on eye contact. She kept her posture rigid as she braced herself and let her calm voice carry without shouting, "... we come in friendship, we come in unity."  
  
She kept her eyes up and raised thinking only about the moment she could break from him and stand beside the other rulers gathered. The sooner this was over, the better.  


From Jareth's perespective, when it had been Elspeth's turn to walk the procession he had noted that Ozias wasn't with her and the thought made him smile slightly to himself.

 

The knight must have pulled a fast one on her. Jareth was sure given how hard she stared in front of herself as she went. Jareth could almost imagine the little wrinkles around her young eyes as she furrowed her brows behind her mask in frustration and forced decorum.

 

Of anyone that had come, the Empyrean was the most mysterious. Both her mask and outfit shrouding much of her physical features making it intentionally hard to determine her age or anything else about her if one didn't already know. That was the point of the custom, he supposed. The people of the sky rarely trusted ground dwellers and most all of them tended to have a very high opinion of themselves. The Empyrean were no different as a people in that regard.   
  
Still in spite of all the pageantry, the most important indicator of who Elspeth really was was the only thing that was clearly exposed. Her eyes. seeing into her eyes was all he needed to get a glimpse of her true character; and, of course, when Elspeth approached him and said her dutiful words Jareth also noted how she would not truly look at him.  
  
The behavior was both childish on her part and disappointing to him. Jareth dearly wanted her to face him, to look into his own eyes and see that they were people who both were more than they appeared to be. He had hoped that on some level she would catch a glimpse of his humanity and, in spite of anything else she might ever think of him, remember it. But Jareth wasn't going to force the issue. Sooner or later she would have to deal with him directly and the sooner she accepted his hospitality, if not his nature, the better for both of them.  
  
While Elspeth was speaking, Jareth noticed that she had forgotten to extend her arm. No doubt because she consciously had no desire to touch him. Procedure demanded the gesture however and there could be no exceptions. To avoid breaking with the flow of their greeting, Jareth subtly over-reached with his own arm and lightly circled her smaller wrist with his thumb and pointer gently tugging it so that it would appear like they were making the proper contact, just in a slightly daintier way than the rest had. The audience would hopefully assume that Jareth was simply taking more care with the Empyrean given that it was her first ball and that they shared a unique history between them that the others did not. If Elspeth was smart she would keep still and not react even though Jareth was quite sure that if she wasn't being watched by over a hundred people that the young Empyrean might have tried to assault him over it.  
  
"You may go in friendship, Elspeth. We are all united in peace." Jareth said firmly but quietly. Speaking much more sofetly then he had with anyone else and deviating from the custom by addressing her by her given name.  
  
Elspeth didn't permit her body language to waver, but couldn't do much to hide the sudden glare that bore through the mask. She inconspicuously tugged her arm back with a slight pivot of her elbow, not visible to anyone else but Jareth. It was a subtle warning for him to let her go.  
  
How in her minds eye had she wanted to take this moment to spin around and address the crowd. To tell them of Jareth's grave sins against The Empyrean and its people. To proclaim how his irresponsible actions had put her in this insufferable position before she was ready to carry the kingdom on her shoulders. How he'd robbed her of the two people she;d cared about most in the world. In her own naivety she fancied that she could could have made her case passionately and that those gathered would have listen to her every word. She imagined how even if they didn't believe her, at least the truth would finally be out in the open once and for all.  
  
Surely action would have to be taken to investigate the allegations after such a public display.  
  
But, she'd have to wait or maybe it was that Elspeth simply did not have the nerve to cause such a disruption. Ultimately wisdom out weighed temptation as she reminded herself how she had no idea if she had allies or enemies in this blasted place. She'd have to meet the others and determine who could and could not be leaned on and trusted to see things her way. Elspeth glanced about quickly, catching sight of the Astraen Prince Marten of Astraea. Elspeth recognized the insignia upon his chest if not his face. It was intriguing, indeed, that he'd be here. Surely, there had to be someone sympathetic to her cause. She would have to see.  
  
Elspeth stepped backwards carefully, hoping that this would be a more direct indication that Jareth ought to return her hand. As she stepped backwards she flicked her brown eyes up, shocked to see the startling contrast between his irises. Intriguing. She blinked and the unwelcome thought and finally dropped her eyes to their feet.  
  
The moment he didn't have to touch her anymore, Jareth let Elspeth go.

 

Ironically, that moment occurred about the same time she finally had looked him in the eyes and he had caught her startled expression at the realization that one eye looked different than the other. Jareth knew that most people assumed his irises were diffrent colors. One being a blue green and the other practically black. But the truth was that Jareth's pupil on one side was perpetually open to its widest point and thus dominated the middle of his eye. It was generally startling to people who ever bothered to really take a good look at him and almost no one ever considered wondering why he looked that way or the effect the anomaly had on the Goblin King's sensory experiences.  
  
For his part when Jareth caught a glimpse into Elpeth's eyes, he mourned for her. The anger and hostility she presented on the surface was nothing more than a mask covering a much deeper hurt. A hurt she undoubtedly held him responsible for.  
  
_Its only forever  
Not long at all  
Lost and lonely,  
That's Underground..._  
  
Jareth knew he would have to tread carefully with the Empyrean.

 

The temptation to hurt her in order to free her would be strong in him. At this point cruelty would be the only thing she would trust from him. She was so young. Old by mortal human standards, perhaps, but young by his. He pitied her for it. While Jareth knew he was not responsible for the things Ozias had implied she was accusing him of, Jareth suspected that someone somewhere was culpable somehow and he did not look forward to the day when the truth was foxed out.  
  
But the Goblin King had little time to think on these matters fore just as Elspeth was preparing to step aside, Jareth felt Queen Mab arrive with the rest of the High Council. Her presence was like a balmy summer fragrantly blossoming all at once with a sudden oppressive ,yet deeply alluring, warmth. For an irrational two seconds Jareth had a instinctual impulse to grabbed Elspeth and drag her behind him as if to shield her from Mab's gaze which was truly timeless, all knowing, all seeing and all powerful.  
  
Jareth's eyes swiftly scanned the room for Ozias who he knew was not far from Elspeth's side. Even though he and Jareth were friends, at any sign of impropriety Ozias would have intervened to protect and defend the Empyrean and wouldn't have hesitated to cause permanent bodily harm against Jareth if the situation had warranted it. But for now Jareth wanted simply to hand Elspeth off so that Ozias could help get her out of the way as Queen Mab and her Council announced themselves. As both the host and one of Queen Mab's favorite children, he would be expected to come to her side as immediately as possible.  
  
"It's Mab, she's here. Go." Jareth warned her sharply under his breath just audibly enough for Elspeth to hear.  
  
Jareth's tone and alert expression was less dominating and more full of acute concern that not even he was probably aware was discernible.

 

The moment he didn't have to touch her anymore, Jareth let Elspeth go. Ironically that moment occured about the same time she looked him in the eyes and he caught her startled expression at the realization that one eye looked diffrent than the other. Jareth knew that most people assumed his irises were diffrent colors. One being a blue green and the other practically black. But the truth was Jareth's pupil on one side was perpetually open to its widest point and thus dominated the middle of his eye. It was generally startling to people who ever bothered to really take a good look at him and almost no one ever considered wondering why he looked that way or the effect the anomoly had on the Goblin King's sensory experiances.  
  
For his part when Jareth caught a glimpse into Elpeth's eyes, he mourned for her. The anger and hostility she presented on the surface was nothing more than a mask covering a much deeper hurt. A hurt she undoubtedly held him responsible for.  
  
Its only forever  
Not long at all  
Lost and lonely,  
That's Underground...  
  
Jareth knew he would have to tread carefully with the Empyrean. The temptation to hurt her in order to free her would be strong in him. At this point cruelty would be the only thing she would trust from him. She was so young. Old by human standards perhaps, but young by his. He pitied her for it. While Jareth knew he was not responsible for the things Ozias implied she was accusing him of, Jareth suspected that someone somewhere was culpable somehow and he did not look forward to the day when the truth was foxed out.  
  
But the Goblin King had little time to think on these matters fore he felt Mab arrive with the rest of the High Council. Her presence was like a balmy summer fragrantly blossoming all at once with sudden opressive yet alluring warm. For an irrational two seconds Jareth instinctually wanted to grabbed Elspeth and drag her behind him as if to shield her from Mab's gaze which was trully timesless, all knowing, and all seeing.  
  
Jareth's eyes swiftly scanned the room for Ozias who he knew was not far from Elspeth. Even though he and Jareth were friends, at any sign of impropriety Ozias would have intervened to protect and defend the Empryean and wouldn't have hesistedd to cause perminent bodily harm against Jareth if the situation had warrented. Butr for now Jareth wanted to hand Elspeth off so that Ozias could help get her out of the way as Queen Mab and her Council annouced themselves. Jareth as both the host and one of Mab's favorite children would be expected to come to her side as emmediatly as possible.  
  
"Mab, she's here. Go." Jareth warned under his breath just audibley enough for Elspeth to hear him.  
  
Jareth's tone and alert expression was less dominating and more full of acute consern that not even he was probably aware was desernable.

 

He had watched the awkward exchange between Elspetha and Jareth just outside of the Empyrean's range if sight and denied himself a chuckle. The tiny Empyrean lacked the height and trained grace of her predecessors—nearly all of them—and the sight of the white-clad young woman next to the indomitable Jareth was almost comical to him.  
  
For a split-second, he pitied his younger cousin as he watched them together.

 

Ozias remembered being remarkably jealous as a child when he discovered it would be her that would inherit the throne and not him. He had used to stare at the royal baby, measuring himself against her and trying hard to determine what had made her so special and more worthy to rule than he; she was just a baby, after all.

 

One day Elspeth's father, his uncle Ansel, had clapped him on the shoulder and invited him to come talk to him outside. The precocious youngster begrudgingly had followed along, believing he was in trouble for his nearly-treasonous thoughts. Surprisingly, The then-Empyrean, also golden-haired like himself, followed him down the long hallway to the large courtyard primarily used for military ceremonial events. A massive brigade of troops stood packed in formation, holding still. No sounds could be heard—not even a rustle of collective breathing. The late Empyrean clapped a hand on his shoulder and groused proudly, "When you're Keeper, this will be yours. This is your reward after I'm gone and you've taken care of Elspeth."  
  
Suddenly, the youngster decided that being The Empyrean didn't have as many perks as being the Keeper of the Empyrean did.  
  
Sayer watched Jareth take Elspeth's wrist. Unbeknownst to both of them as they faced each other.

 

Ozias' training had part of his consciousness on guard despite being long-acquainted with the Goblin King. Luckily the moment of nontraditional contact hadn't lasted long and Jareth's quick instructions to have Elspeth taken to her spot as Mab arrived were swiftly heeded as Ozias seemlessly up beside her from his position and gracefully guided the white-clad royal to her spot among her emissaries that were standing in front of the great crowd.

 

Finally, the assembly all slowly turned to the great vast doors at the far end of the hall moving back a bit to make more room mostly out of a sense of collective respect and awe than necessity. All parted between the long walkway and Jareth's enthroning area where his party all stood in their raised box behind him.  
  
Scheherazade, who had been standing near Sayer, now moved away from him slowly towards the closed doors and the room filled with pregnant anticipation and heavy magic. Slowly Scheherazade made her way to the side of one grand door. Her white robes dripping in gold bangles and accents native to her home land. In her good time she turned to the amassed crowd.  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen. The High Elder Council thanks you greatly for your willingness to be with us on this day. The Centennial Ball is a time of communion between all people and beings. All of our destinies entwine along a single great tapestry of existence. In this place and time we come together, lost children in a vast wilderness of life, myth, and magic. All of you are beloved to us and in this time and place we are all equal, all united as one force. We are the children of legend, myth, and legacy. May our stories never be forgotten, may we come together in unity and peace always. In Queen Mab's eyes were are all her children and as such, she has come here this night, out of love and devotion to us all." At the end of her speech Zade bowed deeply to the crowd as the doors swung gently open and unseen trumpets sounded announcing the entrance of the other lesser Council members.  
  
The procession was lead by the Childlike empress who was presently laying upon a great silk pillow three times her size. She was clearly still in full repose. Curled like a cat upon the center of the pillow looking sickly, but presently at peace. The pillow was being carried by willowy fae who moved so seamlessly that they were hardly noticeable.   
  
Next, a few feet behind was the tall and broad Glinda of Oz. Her hair was a dark auburn and fell practically to her waist in wild ringlet curls that practically blazed against her white and gold dress. Her look was regal and honorable as she waited for Scheherazade to join them in the procession, her middle aged beauty was stunning and full of wisdom and strength.  
  
Finally, came Mab herself.  
  
Broad and womanly as if she'd given birth a thousand times over and knew both the pain and joy of it. Though she was beyond middle aged in appearance her beauty was timeless and familiar to all. Stoic yet warm. Inflexible yet accommodating. Her expression was mysterious and her presence weird and otherworldly. Her skirts were layered thick and long flowing and her dress was adorned with flowers, seeds, and and nuts her skirt so wide it took up nearly the entire width of the walkway. Her power and majesty was palpable and not a single person in the room felt as if they could hide from her knowing and all seeing gaze as she both scrutinized and accepted all that was around her. Escorting the high fae into the room was a jovial sort of fawn with spectacles and a long worn scarf twisted about his neck. He was the only male council member and, like the Child-like Empress and Jareth, had come from a place that existed between the worlds. Of the lot of them, the faun known as Mr. Tumnus looked the happiest to be there as he waved and nodded to the crowd.  
  
The procession walked a quarter of the way into the hall when Mab put up her hand and in a voice that filled the entire room without forcing her to raise her voice, she said. "We come in Friendship, Fidelity, and Peace; to right what has been left broken and undone as well as to celebrate what is still good and whole. Our world is a fragile thing that many of us are compelled to take for granted. May you all be grateful for what you have achieved, for who and what you are, and for why you are all here. Your presence among us goes beyond unity and gracious joy. You are the embodiments of our greatest hopes and our most compelling wishes. Not everything we do in this place will be happy, but we must all try to see the wisdom and, more importantly, the opportunities they present. Who comes to take my hand?"  
  
"I do."

 

Jareth approached the procession slowly and with great purpose. His eyes were narrowed as he locked his gaze on Queen Mab who was both a notorious rival and mother figure to him. She was both is redeemer and his judge. how he loved and was oppressed by her.   
  
"Come onward, O' King of the Goblins and make thy self known." Mab's own words were articulated carefully and in a calculated fashion as she watched him approach showing no fear or superiority about it.  
  
_We have come to test you._  
  
The other lesser Council Members moved aside so that Jareth could approach. The tension in the room was high and fine. For a moment, Jareth stood before Queen Mab's direct presence. A presence that would have made a lesser person quiver where they stood at that range.  
  
Jareth held steady though and when Mab extended her hand to him Jareth sunk down before her on both knees and hung his head in tribute to her. Not in submission, but tribute. "I am your faithful servant. Welcome to my home, Aunt."  
  
"Jareth, I do think you mean your lair. Don't confuse the two ideas. Now rise and by all means introduce me to your party. I dare say, I think I see a most interesting face." Mab remarked as she implored him to rise and take her arm.  
  
All of this was clearly heard by everyone in the space and shocked many of them greatly.

 

Mab approached Jareth's assembled party. Scanning them all until she settled on Jillian directly.  
  
Mab felt a sense of internal satisfaction as she gazed down on the face of someone of whom she had decreed the fate of just a short time ago. It sometimes took her by surprise how Above humans grew and aged so rapidly. Wasn't it just some days ago wherever she sentenced Marten of Astraea to his exile over the matter of his daughter? Mag caught the girl's eyes and right then every corner of Jillian's heart sprang into Mab's view.   
  
Within she found a marvelous spirit intertwined with a dark saboteur. She knew Jillian's history already and of the bargain that saved her, but she had never had to bear witness to the repercussions of her judgment before now. She saw pain, a little girl being viciously told of some false unworthiness by the one who was supposed to love her above all things. She could hear the echoes of those lies following the child even now in her life long struggle with self-doubt.  
  
It had been a very, very long time since Mab felt inspired to second guessed her own judgment.  
  
When making calls on behalf of other nations, she always accounted for their sovereignty and personal wishes. Marten's actions threw his already unstable nation into a state of sheer panic. The near loss of the unicorn foal at the hands of one of his ancestors had sparked fears that Lord Darkness would return again someday. So when news arrived that the prince had travel without consent the the Above and had foolishly permitted himself to father a child there, his people feared that she too would bring darkness and ruin once more to their land. Dedric had been adamant about barring the half human child from his world. Many other places were enduring dark times and agreed that bringing the half-Above child of a cursed man into their mists would bring further instability to the Astraean people and their plaement within the Underground. Mab had ultimately respected the wishes of the Kingdom and ruled accordingly against Marten and his bastard child.  
  
But now, as Mab stood before what had sparked so much fear and controversy, she saw an incredible light. Mab sensed the Above blood churning, but the girl seemed so perfectly fitted for the Underground. Indeed, she had been pulled into their world because of some tremendous need for her presence. The Underground wanted her. Despite the efforts of Astraea, Dedric, The High Council, and even herself. Somehow the lost child had made her way home. The slightest hint of a smile played across Mab's stoic face. Even at her age, fate still sprang up from behind to give her a pleasant surprise now and again.  
  
"A fine representative you have chosen indeed, Jareth."  
  
Humor subtly tinted her voice. The man had not the foggiest idea that the girl that stood before him was the very same child he had once whisked away from her tragic home at Marten's secret request.   
  
As Mab's gaze bore into her Jillian began to feel crushed under the weight of the woman's intensity and magical presence. Mab sensed in her the all too familiar feeling of nakedness that most of the Underground felt when standing before her. She held the girls gaze just a moment mpre testing how much Jillian could withstand.  
  
Though it wasn't known to her, Jillian possessed power too, boarn in part from a strong predispositioned link to the natural world just like her grandfather Jack had possessed. Mab saw the budding, pure magic within her. The girl seemed to be somewhat aware of her abilities, but not yet convinced that they were hers. The pure magic stirred within her like a wild hope; it could very well bring Light truly back to the kingdom of Astraea once again.  
  
But...Mab paused.   
  
Something else lingered in the girl too. Something still dormant. Mab didn't know how long it would remain as such. There was something dark, heavy, and cold curled around the warmth and the brilliance of Jillian's being. So, Mab thought, the curse had managed even to cross worlds. In spite of Marten's efforts the child had never been safe from it.   
  
Finally Mab freed Jillian from her soul exposing scrutiny, knowing that she would only be able to handle so much. Mab admittedly had peered within her a little too long. Nobody seemed to ever care for being cracked open. To mend the way between them Mab poured feelings of love and calm towards the nervous young woman who looked like she might faint.  
  
"We are all honored and grateful for your presence, Miss Andrews. I'm sure the kingdom thanks you for your part in representing the link between Above and Under."

 

Jareth waited for Mab to quietly acknowledge the others while he kept a more nonchalant eye on Jillian as well. Carefully noting Mab's choice of words regarding the girl. There was still a great mystery about the woman. A matter Jareth had not had time to follow up on when she first arrived. Mab saw something in her though, something Jareth had sensed but had not wanted to unearth. Because Jillian had not directly bargained with him, Jareth had resisted the temptation to look inside her dreams and sentiments and now he was even more glad that he hadn't pried. Whatever Mab saw, it was likely something she knew to some degree before she arrived. The fact that she wasn't making her thoughts known proved that Mab had reasons to protect the girl's privacy for the moment.  
  
When he saw Jillian begin to falter a little under Mab's scrutiny he signaled Magdalene and Baltusar to help support her discretely from behind since he was unable to break form himself and assist her. He did agree however with Queen Mab that it was right for Jillian to be there standing with them.  
  
The thought conjured up unexpected images of Sarah Williams, another raven haired human who, under different circumstances might have been the one to face Queen Mab as Jillian was doing now. There was a connection point there that Jareth didn't like to speculate on. He was sure she wasn't a Williams relation and he was also sure now that he and Jillian had some kind of connection to each other. A connection Mab knew of and found to be amusing.  
  
Jareth wasn't amused. The whole business of the Ball and the parties in attendance felt invented and it greatly disturbed him to know that something was being planned around him without his awareness or consent.  
  
Nevertheless, there was little Jareth could do about it just then. He would play his part for the moment and when time allowed, try to make sense of it all.  
  
"Come, Mab. Your place awaits."  
  
"Yes." Queen Mab remarked in passing as she allowed Jareth to escort her to the slightly raised throne so that she could address the amassed. "Well now. Why don't we feast and make merry. I will take hearings with the individual kingdoms in stride."  
  
Mab then leaned slightly towards Jareth who was standing beside her. "In spite of everything, you still never cease to surprise us, William. Your actions, both distant and near, have a way of coming full circle in a most shocking fashion."  
  
"I am as your great design intended me to be, O' Aunt." Jareth replied flatly ignoring the fact that Mab had chosen to address him by his given name instead of his knighted one.  
  
"My design, is it? Trust me child, if your character were of my design we wouldn't be sitting here together in this place." Mab replied idly.  
  
"A placeholder, Majesty. That is all I am here so far as the High Council is concerned." Jareth was not going to allow Mab to get under his skin just yet.  
  
"Your words and not mine, child. I have always found it curious how little you value your own abilities." Mab dug a bit further.  
  
"I am your servant, Majesty. But you and the Council are not my first priority and never will be so long as I hold this place." It was almost a threat.  
  
Mab was most satisfied with him.  
  
"Indeed. Be careful, William. Your time in this place is a fragile thing." Mab warned.  
  
"Nothing lasts forever, Mab. Not even in the Underground. You know that better than I. Let us not quarrel just yet, shall we? Whatever it is you and the others have come here to do, I will be waiting. In the meantime, let us be…Friends."  
  
The entire conversation was spoken in low tones between them, Mab could conceal as much as she could project.  
  
"Do me one favor William…" Mab mentioned.  
  
"I saw. I will attend to her as best I can, Mab. You should not have made the Child-like Empress come here. Now that she is away from Fantasia and outside the refuge of the Ivory Tower she will weaken. I will do what I can for her while she's here, but you must allow the Child-like Empress to leave this place as soon as possible. Whatever you have planned, do it quickly." A hint of anger swept through his final words.

 

Jareth bowed stiffly and excused himself for a moment.

 

Before he could quite get away from her though, Queen Mab added onto her request in a after thought.  
  
She glanced across the hall where the two Astraean princes stood. Marten looked on, standing rather stiffly and carefully avoiding her gaze. She could feel the searing pangs of his shame burning afresh in the presence of the jury that had sentenced him years ago.   
  
She turned toward her escort who had made it as far as the other side of her chair in his departure.  
  
"Oh and Jareth, whenever you permit your delightful upworldly representative a brief break from her duties, might I suggest she show Prince Marten around the garden? I daresay he looks dreadfully uncomfortable already and I think he would appreciate a moment away from the crowds. It seems Miss Andrew here possesses a particular fondness for flowers, and I think she'd find some delight in learning about his kingdom's eternal state of Spring."  
  
Jareth physically paused at this request. What was the blasted fae up to now?  
  
Nothing Queen Mab said or did was without meaning or purpose.  
  
"As you wish...My Lady." Jareth didn't bother to hid the suspicious air in his tone and dislike of the order but nevertheless he was duty bound to obey most of her requests and orders.

 

This was definitely an order since she made sure to call the Goblin King by his titled name instead of the private one she sometimes used when she wished to speak to him in confidence.  
  
Turning his head slightly, Jareth signaled to the small hob-goblin disguised as a child (all the rest had been enchanted as adults and Hoggle had been left as he was) in the tutu. Tilly-whim came to him like sprite with nothing but wide eyed-childlike love and affection on her small face. Kneeling down to the goblin's level, Jareth whispered something into her ear and pointed to Jillian. Tilly-whim nodded then scampered back to where she stood with the others eventually pulling gently on Jillian's dress to get her attention.  
  
"Master Jareth has requested you do him the favor of escorting Prince Marten of Astraea to the fruit garden as his Majesty is momentary being called to attend to another guest. He suspects you will both benefit from a stint of fresh air and he wants you to know that if you or the prince are in need of him later he will be in the lounge room to the far west...Over there. I would like to add that we all think your doing just splendidly! All of us are so glad you have come. Go now if you like." The child whispered into her ear.

 

Besides Hoggle and the others on the dias Tilly-whim was the only goblin in attendance with the privilege of being able to speak to others and fully show her face all the other Goblin who were not disguised wore helmets obscuring their faces and had orders not to speak.

 

Jillian rose and, not having an opening just then to figure out which one was Marten, moved to sit nest to Magdalene instead as they watched Jareth receive various royals. Jillian had soon forgotten about trying to maintain a visage of stoicism before the dazzling sights. She watched in awe as the hall filled with the flesh and blood versions of the heroes she once thought only existed in the books she'd read.  
  
“Mag there's something I don't understand. Some of these people are known in my world. We have books and films about some of them. How is that possible?” Jillian asked in a confused manner.

 

“Many times the events of this world leave impressions on the people of yours. Some have actually traveled here and woven their experiences into their visions and art. Others dream of our world and are inspired by it.” Mag explained.  
  
Eventually the members of the of Astraean party caught Jillian's attention, and she stared with some interest for some time without being able to ascertain why she found them so interesting. The Astraens certainly didn't have the widest variety of magical beings among them and it was by no means the most enchanting party in attendance, but something about it drew her in. The clothing looked largely reminiscent of the Middle Ages. The vision conjured memories of story book pictures, and the sound of the music made her heart swell and ache.  
  
~@~  
  
Marten had watched Jillian endure the face-to-face greeting with Mab with rapt fascination. During the encounter he had felt a twinge of sympathy for Jillian's position. It hadn't been so long ago that he too had a most unfortunate meeting with the fae. Mab had extended him no mercy. Instead she had flayed him apart until every great and minuscule secret was known to her. Marten was very much surprised that Jillian hadn't been more affected by Mab's prying scrutiny.  
  
He felt the smack of a palm against his chest and saw that Dedric was giving him a sheet of paper later as they stood among the crowd socializing.  
  
"Right," said Dedric. "Why don't you start with Oz? There's been an uptick in demand for Ozian emeralds. It's a small task, I'm sure you can handle it. Meanwhile, I'm going to go chat with some Nodlings about drawing up an export trade contract..." He had already strode a few paces away when he quickly turned on his heel and walked back to Marten.  
  
"By the way. Did you detect any sort of tension between Jareth and the Empyrean during the announcement ceremony?" Dedric asked slyly.  
  
Marten shrugged sullenly.  
  
"I suppose so," he said. "But I don't understand why that's something worth being noted."  
  
"Why not?"Dedric demanded.  
  
Marten raised his eyebrows. Did he actually know something his gossip and scandal loving brother did not?  
  
"Because it had been arranged once upon a time for Jareth to marry the now Lady Empyrean, but at some point when he assumed control of the kingdom their agreement was nullified." Marten explained.  
  
Dedric had clearly forgotten that the new Empyrean had even been crowned much less been betrothed to the Goblin King at one point. Visits from the distant sky kingdom were a rarity, so Dedric had heard little news from there besides the devastating epidemic that had transpired some decades ago.

 

"I'll be sure to give her a warmest of greetings. Can't imagine what the poor lady had to suffer through after such a ridiculous rejection. Can you imagine someone in her position getting dropped by such a man?" Dedric mused.  
  
“I'm going. Try to stay engaged, Marten.” Clapping his brother on the back he quickly moved away into the throng of guest.

 

Marten looked on as his brother smiled and shook hands enthusiastically among the nobility he passed. Dedric flexed his expert skills in foreign relations as he effortlessly adjusted his manners to suit the varying people. When at last, the Empyrean came in to his sight, he seemed to instinctively know how to greet her in proper fashion.

 

First, he approached her armor clad companion and bowed.  
  
"Honorable Keeper, may I humbly ask for just a brief word with your Lady?"  
  
He stood before Elspeth and bowed.  
  
"Lady Empyrean, on behalf of the kingdom of Astraea, I want to tell you that we are thrilled and privileged to have you and your people among us. I'm sure this task was not an easy one, but we must all entrust that Queen Mab has her reasons for choosing her host. However, between you and me, I'm quite surprised he managed to whip this heap into something presentable. Mark me, these are nothing more than Illusions.." Dedric said, gesturing knowinglu towards the décor around them. "Cheap parlor tricks, that's all he knows. Excuse me for saying the Empyrean is far, far worthier than some deflated magician and his hordes of little monsters."

 

Sayer rolled his eyes dramatically and turned about to avoid having to watch Dedric, who'd broken in before having a chance to obtain his approval. He'd briefly met him once during his travels from lands distant from The Empyrean. Sayer shook an errant lock of hair out of his eyes as he half-listened to the conversation and half-watched the crowd, full of familiar faces, many of those he'd seen during his youthful travels. He waved a friendly hello here and there. It was then that he finally spotted Scheherazade, both by her beautiful skin and white robes she wore. There was a glow about her that made her stand out from the others around her as she stood speaking to a growing group of enraptured guests, smitten with every word she spoke. Sayer blinked as he felt his chest tug. She really was a lovely woman, he observed to himself as he still maintained a listening ear on the two royals behind him.  
  
Elspeth eyed the elder Astraean prince carefully as she listening to his well-practiced voice. He spoke to her as though more familiar with her than he really was. Elspeth tilted her head as she considered what could possibly lead to this Astraean to come to her so aggressively. She'd always been taught to not be too trusting too quickly--something she knew she was susceptible to. She truly did want to be outwardly demonstrative of her good feelings... but Elspeth always felt as though making any social error would cause some kind of horrific problem she couldn't think or figure her way out of.  
  
Maybe it was that she was constantly afraid. The thought had never hit her before now.  
  
Elspeth smiled behind politely her mask. Maybe it was time to stop being afraid.  
  
"Prince Dedric," she greeted brightly, concealing her surprise over him slighting the host of the event so freely.

 

Elspeth dutifully extended a hand toward him. Despite the fact that hearing him say such things truly was gratifying, she wasn't sure about divulging her feeling or her secret when it came to the subject of the Goblin King. Though she told herself that she detested Jareth deeply the fact that she almost felt an electric sense of familiarity when they had finally locking eyes was strange and contradictory feeling. Almost as though a white buzz was trying to lifted the stress and disdain from her mind and allowed her a brief moment of calm and reconsideration.  
  
Elspeth rapidly blinked her eyes and admonished herself internally for her weakness. She knew better than to let Jareth's otherworldly charms dissuade her from thinking ill of him. Jareth's efforts were no match for her own psychological resilience and prejudices.  
  
"I trust your journey treated you well." she stated politely.

 

Elspeth attempted to focus on Didric's response, but felt distracted by the pierce natureof his dark blue eyes. She quickly surveyed his face. He was handsome. She'd always heard that Prince Dedric was easy on the eyes. To her, that was an understatement. She smiled behind her mask and blushed. Maybe her hunt for a suitable husband wouldn't be too difficult here after all.  
  
No. There was no sense in getting ahead of herself. Besides, finding a mate not what she was there to do.  
  
Her job was to establish lucrative relations between the kingdoms. From the way he spoke about Jareth Elspeth could see there was no love between the men. This was something she and Dedric had in common.

 "Was your trip here a long journey?" Elspeth asked making conversation.

Dedric surveyed the mask as she spoke. The detail was actually quite fine and carved in detailed patterns in the white porcelain. It surely had to be Empyrean porcelain to be light enough to be worn for an extended period of time. 

  
He wondered about her appearance. He had traveled to the sky kingdom as a very small child while his mother still carried Marten in her womb. He remembered marvelous, gravity-defying architecture and the people in delicate, flowing garb rusting against their sun-kissed skin. The Empyrean people were known for their seraphim-like beauty, and what fuzzy detials he struggled to recall of the former rulers, he figured Elspeth was just as lovley.  
  
"Indeed it was. A long road, but we had several wonderful neighbors that offered us room and board. My people have always had a fondness for taking the scenic route, but I bet travel by luckdragon is far more efficient and thrilling."

  
Thrilling was a bit of an understatement for Dedric. He had a horrendous fear of heights and of being dirty.  
  
"So I hear this is your first visit to the ground. I'm terribly sorry that you're going to miss some of the more splendid sights the Underground has to offer. The Emerald City is a truly enchanting place. Ah, speaking of which, there goes Queen Ozma's second hand Glinda over there."  
  
He gestured to the woman trailing Jareth.  
  
"Wonderful, wonderful she is," he said admiringly. "She's on the council you know. Fair sense of justice, and an excellent ability to read others. Be sure to speak with some of the High Council during your stay. They appreciate the ones who take the initiative to do so."

  
It felt good to relay a little advice to a new ruler.   
  
"I've been on a mission to develop deeper ties with the kingdoms of the Underground. I have some big plans that I'm afraid my predecessors never shared a similar interest in. So, to pull Astraea out of its isolation, I'm seeking out possible import markets. I'm sure the ladies back home would happily empty their purses for your excellent porcelain. Spring blooms eternal in Astraea and as a result we have the biggest variety of plants and flowers in the Undergound, some of which have some remarkable properties."

  
He fished a small glass vial from his vest pocket and a small bottle with a dropper. He then held the vial up so the Empyean could see the tiny seed inside.  
  
"Watch this."  
  
Dedric uncorked the lid, unscrewed the dropper, and very carefully squeezed a few drops of water from the vial. The seed broke open and a tiny stalk of green lazily snaked out. At the top, a little bud began to form and blush into a bright crimson. The petals slowly yawned open into a delicate blossom. Dedric smiled and corked the lid.  
  
"As long as there is Astraen water inside, it will never die. For you, my lady." He handed her the tiny gift.  
  
"If you have any interest in discussing the potential for trade between our two kingdoms perhaps we can do so over a dance this evening?" Dedric proposed.

Elspeth smirked behind her mask. The striking prince was charming. And clearly ambitious. His proposition didn't bother her.  she understood the purpose of presentation and for at least declaring an agenda up front, ahead of time.  
  
"Flowers," she mused aloud as she took the small vial, inspecting it thoughtfully, "flowers are such an intriguing concept. We have no dirt in The Empyrean, for anything to grow. We prioritize trade in food and nourishment." She batted her eyelashes.

"Consider a few ideas before our discussion. Impress me," she challenged in a passive tone, a somewhat giddy smile forming on her obscured face.

How she loved it.

"But the Keeper must be involved in our discussion," Elspeth emphasized, indicating the tall armored man standing nearby. "I don't do anything without consulting with my most trusted advisor."

  
Sayer raised a hand silently in acknowledgment, specifically so that Dedric could see.

 

Dedric grinned. He hadn't accounted for the Empyrean in any of his plans for commerce or alliance-building, but here stood a promising young ruler who took him by surprise. She wasn't going to simply sway to small charms and flattery. No, she had a level head, a proper sense to weigh the possibilities. He peered through the mask as if surveying her face. He had no doubt with or without it, the lady's expression was as placid as a skilled gambler.   
  
"You're in luck, Lady Empyrean" he said as he reached into his vest and removed a small stack of cards. "I always come prepared."

He handed one each to her and Sayer.  
  
"There, you will see a list of our ten biggest exports. We have an immense variety of fruits, truffles, and the sweetest honey in the Underground. In recent years, our perfume industry has soared. Astraea is practically covered in flowers, and our craftsmen have created wonderful elixirs. I hope business will eventually rival the Forgotten Desert's, but we're still some ways from that. Speaking of which..."  
  
He noticed the Keeper's frequent glances in Queen Zade's direction.  
  
"The Queen of the Forgotten Desert is just over there in white. It's rare to catch her unoccupied. She's Mab's right hand and one of the most influential members of the council. Why don't you have your Keeper escort you to her and introduce yourself? You'll get a good footing in the public forum if you acquaint yourself with the council early. They respect those who take the initiative to connect with their neighbors. Besides, I think your advisor would appreciate the change of scenery." Dedric quipped.  
  
Just then Dedric spotted a dwarven noble that he had told Marten to speak with about steel shipments. The noble wasn't holding the rolled scroll of a contract which meant that his brother had not performed the task he'd set him on. Dedric's eyes darted around as he realized that Marten was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"Discuss the list with your associate. I'll have a servant deliver a few bottles of our fragrances. The bluebell is a favorite among the locals. I'm afraid I have some business to attend to. Until the eve, my lady."  
  
He bowed gracefully and flashed her a smile.  
  
"Lord Keeper."  
  
He then took another, more stoic and rigid bow, and turned to leave.

 

~@~

 

There were many many things on the Goblin King's mind as he maneuvered with ease and flawless grace through the crowd. It was easy to do when the goblins were trained to stay out of his way at these kinds of functions and when the reality was that many of the people in attendance either weren't sure how to approach him or had little desire to unless they had business to conduct.

 

So much the better, Jareth thought darkly.

 

In spite of the many who were indifferent to him or worse, Jareth had powerful allies in attendance too. Two of whom who were on the High Council itself and whom he was on his way to interact with.  
  
Unlike most of the rest of the High Council who had members of their own cultures with them, the Child-like Empress had come alone because in most ways she stood alone and was more solitary than almost everyone else there. Although she had stirred slightly since her entrance into the great hall it was clear that she was unwell and barely aware of her surrounds.  
  
As he neared the large silk pillow where the empress still lounged, Glinda halted him. A unshakable protectiveness over the Empress was present in every move she made, but familiarity and warmth shone in her eyes when she peered at Jareth softening her.  
  
"Jareth, I am glad you are come. I know Queen Mab's requests of you may seem unreasonable..." She began sympathetically.  
  
"I am not doing this for Mab." Jareth interjected tensely cutting glinda off sharply.

 

"Atryu should have come here in her place as her proxy. As long as he holds the AURYN he is empowered to speak on her behalf. Not that the child-like Empress is expected to do more than utter her verdict when a vote is needed. I can guess what her presence here means and, whatever happens, I'm not going to bother trying to sway you or the rest of them. My record and circumstances all these centuries speak for themselves. I ask only that you not forget the things I've done for some of the great kingdoms. Things, I remind you, that I was not obligated to do. I ask that you remember my deeds for you and the Empress, not as a means for leniency but as a means of making the facts known. All of them. Please, Gle'n do this for me. That is all I ask in the matter." Jareth implored her.  
  
Glinda nodded and said no more about the subject.  
  
"We need to move her. there's too much stimuli here and she needs to be allowed to rest without being isolating from everyone.” Jareth looked now to Glinda for permission. “I promise that I wont hurt her, Gle'n. Will you allow me to do what I can for her?"  
  
Glinda didn't respond but did step aside to allow Jareth to approach the vulnerable Child-like Empress.  
  
Jareth neared the Empress and knelt down reaching out to brush a stray baby hair from her pale face. Even if she didn't recognize him by sight in her delirium, she would know his touch and not be afraid. Jareth pulled back a moment to pull off his black kit gloves offering a rare glimpse of his hands, which were long with narrow artistic fingers. Though his palms were smooth, if one looked carefully, there were subtle thin white lines all over them that indicated that at one time they had seen the abuses of hard labor and also likely of violence. Jareth touched her face again, the skin on skin contact triggering the Empress to look up at him with watery gold irises that barely could focus on him. Jareth could feel the traces of a low fever that had likely just broke which was why she was more alert than when she first arrived.  
  
"William..." The empress said his special name on an exhale.  
  
"Rest, my little friend. It is I." Jareth said soothingly.  
  
He then half rose and backed off a moment. Quickly flagging down the nearest goblin server.   
  
"You there. Help me get out of this damn thing." Jareth was referring to his black mantle and cloak which would be impractical for what he was about to do.   
  
The enchanted goblin quickly put down her tray and assisted him with removing his shoulder and breast plates.   
  
"Give it here, thank you. You may go." Jareth took his mantel and with one forceful pull ripped the fabric of his cloak from it.   
  
Glinda was nice enough to take the rest of the armor plates from him handing them off to another server.   
  
Surprisingly, though the cloak was black on one side, it was lined with white silk on the interior which Jareth had probably manipulated at the last minute to match the Empress's colors which were always white. Jareth arraigned the fabric so that the white was facing out and used it to effectively wrap the seeming petite ten year old and lift her into his arms. Without ceremony Jareth turned and, with Glinda in tow to show that he was acting under supervision, swiftly carried the Empress against him to the lounge which was a smaller open room that at the moment was not thickly occupied. Most who observed this looked shocked, confused, surprised or disproving of Jareth as he carried the High Council member into the lounge with Glinda and the goblin who had taken his armor in tow. The business was quite a scene and when Jareth had headed for the lounge the crowd had parted both out of respect to the High Council members and because most who saw him coming saw that Jareth was in no mood to maneuver around them if they got in his way.   
  
Now in nothing but his white poet shirt from the wast up and the armor from the waist down, Jareth's appearance was greatly softened despite his wild hair, arching brows, and aristocratic features.  
  
Jareth settled himself in a shell like chair and adjusted the bundle in his arms. The extra fabric of his cloak draped down over the side and the Empress looked even smaller in her wrapping. More like a child of five or six as she clung to Jareth who hummed in a low tone and rocked her occasionally. Meanwhile he held the Empress in such a way that her temple rested gently against the horned amulet that was now visible around his neck.   
  
"You are with me, my Empress. Sleep now and share in my power. In me all that the world can imagine is yours. Dream sweet dreams for both of us. I promise that you will return to your refuge soon."  
  
Although she wasn't really a child, in this moment Jareth treated her with all the care he usually reserved for one. And after awhile, as she slipped deeper into repose and shared in the flow of imagination Jareth had held aside for her the white glow turned around her began to change to a soft blue and, gradually, her appearance began to improve.

 

Jareth, for his part managed his link to her well enough though it was clear that the business was a strain on him personally. He was already fueling so much into the illusions around him that it was a wonder he had enough in reserve to add this to it.  
  
Mab was no fool though. While the childlike empress really would benefit from his efforts the high fae was personally more interested in gauging how the public reacted to this nurturing, caring, and self sacrificing side of him. At the core, Mab knew this display was a direct reflection of who Jareth really was. Jareth was man who cared far more about others than he did for himself.

 


	15. Brewing Trouble

Like many of the others, Jillian had noticed when Jareth had approached Glinda and the Child-like Express and exchanged words with them. Realizing that something was wrong she had been equally perturbed when he had appeared half dressed with the fragile Empress held aloft in his arms. Jillian along with Mag and Baltusar had quickly risen from their seats together to investigate what was going on. Watching him tend to the apparently distressed figure in his arms caused Jillian to subconsciously shiver.

 

As she looked on Jillian found her mind wondering into her own past as she remembered the chilly nipping of a November night, the cold wind blowing from somewhere rustling her small windbreaker and nightgown. Had she been outside somehow? Jillian vaguely remembered watching a long black cloak trailing behind someone's shoulder. She remembered a few notes of a lullaby and an incredible feeling of complete and utter safety as she clung to the knees of someones black clad legs, the fragmented memory ended with a vision of Jillian awakening alone outside the door of her adopted parents suburban home.  How strange that she would think of such things at a time like this.  
.  
"The nerve of that wretched toad of a man...Who does he think he is?" A voice squawked behind her.

 

Jillian craned her head around to find the source of the offending voice. It belonged to a beakish bird like woman wearing an unflattering purple dress. The creature was rapidly swishing a large, lacy fan as if she were sweltering in the cavern-like coolness of the hall. "Does he think that he's going to win sympathy by with such a display?"  
  
"Sympathy for what, might I ask?" Jillian demanded to know.  
  
"What? What you say? Oh. Heavans, just name it. That man has been a menace to the kingdom since he got the crown if you ask me and he's only gotten worse since that incident with that girl."  
  
Jillian frowned remembering how Mag had warned her that she might hear unflattering and biased things about Jareth.  
  
"Well it appeared to me that he is simply tring to help the Empress. Can't you see that she's sick?”

  
The woman clicked her beak in scornful disproval. "Oh? And you are his publicist, hmmm? Trying to find any sort of dim light to shine on him?  
  
"No, but I am a representative in his party and I don't think you should speak about him that way." Jillian argued.  
  
" You have some nerve trying to weasel your little opinions into the public forum! Doing it on his behalf, are you? Well I for one will not stand to have a wicked little Above-grounder chastise me.” At that the strange creature walked off in a huff.   
  
Grunting in disgust, Jillian shook her head and returned her attention to Jareth.

 

“You see even in moments like this, the foolish scorn him.” Baltusar said in a low voice as he came to stand closely beside Jillian.

 

“They don't know anything. I may not know Jareth very well but even I can plainly see that what he's doing is an act of mercy and compassion. Its disgusting to think he's so hated by people. It's just...Not fair.” Jillain remarked.

  
Just then, she felt a small tug at her skirt. She smiled down at the little tutu-wearing girl that had accompanied them and spoken to her earlier. Kneeling down she allowed the little creature to speak into her ear discretely.

 

“The Astraean prince Marten is no longer engaged. This might be a good time to speak to him.” The goblin related.   
  
"Thank you, Tilly-Whim, is it? I suppose a breather could be in order. Will you take me to him?” Jillian asked.

  
"...and how much cut and polished emerald does his majesty require?" asked the green velvet clad Ozian Minister of Trade as he peered at Marten through a pair of the famous green-tinted spectacles. "You know if you have your own jewelers, we can ship the raw material at a third of the cost."  
  
Marten hadn't been paying attention. He had been distracted at the sight of the Goblin King gently carrying the weary Child-like Empress. He watched him, followed by Glinda, stride towards a private room, the ageless little girl's forehead resting against his shoulder. At the sight of this, Marten thought of his own child and wondered if Jareth he had carried her in the same manner. The shame he felt bit at his heart. He should have been the one to take her. He should have fought harder to keep her or at least begged the High Council to banish him to the Above so that he could take care of her personally. Anything would have been less cowardly then cowering these long year is in his prison back home. For once, he envied his host for possessing a greater fatherly instinct than he had.  
  
"...Your majesty?"  
  
Marten blinked and shook his head and to snap his focus back onto the minister.  
  
"Sorry, I'm afraid I didn't quite get that last bit."  
  
The minister pursed his lips causing his mustache to bristle impatiently. "You can get the materials raw for cheaper. Do relay that to your brother, yes? He seems to be the business head after all."  
  
Marten felt his cheeks burn at the thinly-veiled insult, but he brushed it aside and nodded.  
  
"Of course. If you'll excuse me, I need to erm,"  
  
He couldn't think of a good reason for his departure so he simply jerked his thumb somewhere behind him and proceeded to walk in that direction.  
  
He let out a long exhale as he found a quiet corner near one of the outer balconies. Marten breifly faced the wall as he tried to pull himself back together. He always felt awkward when running business alone. Like his parents, he felt more comfortable in natural places, away from crowds of people. The distraction during his conversation with Oz shook what little resolve he had. He was long out of practice in handling bureaucracy and it made him feel like an utter failure. He looked down at his cuffs. He had been a servant for so long that he had forgotten how to stand on his own. Marten took a deep breath turned back around.  
  
As he did, he nearly spun right into a figure who had been approaching while his back was turned.  
  
Both of them apologized in unison as Marten reached out to steady the figure.  
  
Another apology chimed in unison, and when he realized who the person was and nearly knocked into her again trying to get out of the way.   
  


“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you.” Jillian apologized. “I just saw you standing here alone and thought you might like some company.”  
  
Jillian straightened her shoulders and extended him herm hand. "My name is Jillian.”  
  
The smile was what struck Marten first. From the shape of the mouth to the alignment of the teeth, that smile looked almostexactly like his mother's. He took her hand and shook it.  
  
"Marten, Prince of Astraea." he replied as he shook her hand. "And I'm afraid handshakes are not so common place in our world."  
  
He bowed deeply and regarded her countenance. Her large, dark eyes looked nearly as black as his, but they glittered with a sort of natural warmth that his lacked. The structure of her cheeks and jaw was prominent but softened and she had a tall, noble forehead framed by little clusters of feathery black curls and a small nose that upturned slightly at the end. She certainly didn't remind him of any of the Above-grounders he had been in cahoots with.  
  
Even if Marten handn't know she was one of Jareth's human representatives, he would have been able to tell that she was from the Above. He swore he could detect just the slightest scents of asphalt, concrete, and car exhaust. Jillian also spoke with an accent similar to some of the people he had met Above. She lacked the ethereal graces of someone of the Underground there was an innocent charm to her that Marten instantly responded positively to. And yet something seemed strange. He couldn't put a finger on as to what it was, but she didn't entirely feel like an Above-grounder to him. Her energy mingled effortlessly into the Underground as if she were a part of it.

  
"I was told by someone that you might enjoy stepping outside and touring the gardens. Will you walk with me?" Jillian offered.  
  
Jillian was looking forward to get a chance to explore the orchard nearby on one of the outer terraces.

  
She watched the prince's face soften with relief at her suggestion and suddenly he did not look as rigid as he had in the procession from earlier.   
  
"Some fresh air and quiet would be splendid." he agreed.

 

Marten offered her his arm, and they walked out of the ballroom towards the East end of the castle. Though she didn't quite know the way, Jillian walked on guided by a sense that she could not name. She had felt it grow over the few weeks she'd been in the underground, and it seemed to be steadily getting stronger. Somehow, she fancied that she could feel and recognize the life energies emanating from the natural world around her and she didn't know what to make of it.  
  
She and the prince both exhaled in unison once they were outside in the open air.   
  
The garden expanded out into a large, half-moon sort of shape that was quartered by two crisscrossing pathways. Smaller, flat stone trails cut through the orchards and raised box plots full of berry plants.   
  
Jillian marveled at the arrangement of the place. Plants were carefully laid out in organized, natural clusters. Instead of having a lot of one species grouped and isolated, they grew in scattered groups next to other varieties in order to appeal to the insects that pollinated them. The trees flanked the two big pathways and also boasted different kinds of fruit. It was all so fragrant and beautiful.  
  
"Do you have a fondness for plants?" she heard Marten ask.  
  


“Well, I like flowers and natural things. My parents were avid gardeners and raised award winning flowers in their free time.” Jillian explained. “I dunno, I always just feel better around plants and things. Hopeful.”  
  
arten smiled "My people and I share the same sentiment. We hold the natural world in the highest regard and our kingdom is blessed to be thriving in an eternal Spring."  
  
"My favorite season. Eternal you say?" Jillian inquired.   
  
"Indeed. The weather is always pleasantly warm, and flowers bloom everywhere and anywhere you can imagine."  
  
"Sounds like something to see." Jillian remarked.  
  
Marten gave a small chuckle. "So where do you hail from, Miss Jillian?"  
  
"Boston."  
  
At this, Marten laughed "A nature lover in Boston? So that means you get to tromp about in pleasant weather for what? Three months out of the year?"  
  
"Hey now," Jillian responded in amused defense. "It's actually four thank you very much. How do you know of the weather in Boston anyway?"   
  
"I, erm, spent a short time there some years ago." Marten confessed awkwardly.  
  
"What made you want to go there of all places?" she asked.  
  
"Well, that's just where the doorway opened when I crossed worlds. It's not always an exact science, you see." He explained without really explaining.  
  
"By what you've told me of your world, I don't know why you'd ever want to leave it." Jillian mused.  
  
She saw Marten's face briefly shift expression. His lips tightened and curled down, his dark eyes dimmed with some unknown grief, and for just a moment he looked much older.  
  
"Guess you could say I needed a vacation."  
  
Jillian pretended to be distracted by an apple hanging from a low branch, and allowed him to walk a few paces ahead. He seemed to be in need of a private moment just then to collect himself. When he looked back at her more composed she joined him once more at his side.  
  
"And what did you think of Boston?" she asked after he made a little space in between them.  
  
"It's Loud. Well, compared to here."  
  
Jillian laughed and cupped the half-ripened apple in her palm, carefully rotating it to examine the unripened green without actually pulling it from its steam. Before her eyes, the skin of the apple darkened and turned red. She gasped and whipped her hand away.   
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
"Yes. I...I just saw something strange. Why don't you tell me me more about Astraea." She inquired recovering and rubbing her fingers together. Was it the salt from her sweat? Had she accidentally willed the apple to ripen in her palms?  
  
Marten proceeded to tell Jillian of Astraea's significance within the Underground. Though she seemed somewhat distracted throughout most of the conversation. He occasionally glanced at her from the corner of his eye, and noticed that she spent a large portion of their walk rubbing the palms and fingers of her hands and looking down at them with an odd, furrowed expression. However, he did spark her interest at the mention of unicorns.  
  
"They can only live there?" she asked rhetorically.   
  
"Yes. It is one of the last pure places in our world, and even it has been tainted by Darkness.” Marten explained.  
  
The prince became quiet. His head hung a little, his long black hair shielding his face. Jillian looked at him from time to time. There was a slight slouch to his posture as if his shoulders carried the burden of some invisible weight. His dark eyes were deep set into his elongated face. He had a tall forehead and high, sharp cheekbones that made his pallid skin appear sunken.  
  
"Is that why you left for a while?" She asked innocently.  
  
"Well,"Marten paused, lips still parted in mid-thought."Yes, I suppose you could say that."  
  
His face looked pained and he bit his lip in a similar way as Jillian did whenever she chose to refrain from speaking further.  
  
"I'm sorry. It's rude of me to pry like that." Jillian apologized.  
  
"No, it's quite alright. So...Tell me more about yourself, Miss Jillian."  
  
"There isn't much to say really. I'm horrendously boring." Jillian teased.  
  
"I have trouble believing that. The Underground tends to filter out the boring ones. If you here you must be interesting in some way." Marten assured her.  
  
Jillian shrugged. "There's isn't much to tell. I go to work, I go home, clean up, read a little, write a little, cook a meal, go to bed, and wake to do the same again."  
  
It seemed strange. Jillian lived by that pattern since she'd moved out of her father's place, but looking at it now it felt like she had been living in a languid dream when she thought about it all. It was as if life in the Underground was beginning to feel more real to her than her actual reality was.  
  
Marten didn't know why, but he wanted to know something more about the young woman. "Would it be rude of me to ask your age? Time functions a little differently here and lifespans tend to stretch."  
  
"Twenty-five, at least I think I am. I hope my birthday hasn't passed back home." Jillian wrinkled her nose showing she understood little about how the time difference work as well.  
  
“Twenty-five. thought Marten. How many years had passed since he had been there? Had it been so long?  
  
He looked to his companion with fresher eyes. Was his own precious girl so grown already? He dismissed the thought. The notion brought fresh pain to an old wound.  
  
"Lets see if I can figure this out still...according to your world I am....seventy-five years old I believe." Marten figured.  
  
"Old enough to be my grandfather." Jillian quipped.  
  
Marten chuckled.   
  
"I was a young man of fifty when I was in your world. Spent my visit running around as a um, a "punk", I believe was the proper term.” Marten muttered.  
  
Jillian laughed. "I have to say that I struggle to picture you wearing tattered jeans and patchy jackets. You know, my birth mother thought herself as a punk as well. Oh man, she was OBSESSED with the Sex Pistols, had you heard of them while you were there?"  
  
Marten's throat felt abnormally dry all of a sudden. For some reason he feared whatever words were to follow. He nodded as Jillian carried on.  
  
"Anyway, she and all her stupid punk friends had nicknames. She called herself Connie Rotten."  
_____  
The name stopped Marten in his tracks. He stared dead ahead at the stained glass doors. All was blank in his mind except the dull thumping of blood coursing madly through his skull. He couldn't turn back to look at her, he dared not. Surely he misheard. Surely his former lover was one of an untold many Connie Rottens.   
  
He took a deep breath and tried to steady himself.  
  
"Miss Jillian, wh-who suggested that you escort me on this stroll?" He inquired.  
  
"Jareth, I think...Marten? Are you alright?"  
  
The man had been standing as if frozen for a few moments. She stood behind, curiously watching as he occasionally shook his head.   
  
It seemed to take him a moment to realize that she had asked him a question.  
  
"Huh? Oh, yes. Q-quite, Miss Jillian, but I think I need to excuse myself right now. I-I, um, seemed to have forgotten to um,"

  
He never told her what. He just pointed to the doors and began to briskly walk back inside.

 

 

~@~

 

 _"William, tell me a story..." A pale toddler no older than four, implored the older boy she was cuddled against under a small apple tree in some foreign countryside.  
  
"Alright, what kind of story?" The flaxen haired boy asked the girl-child he was holding.  
  
"A truw story, William. Tell me one that's truw." The girl insisted in a longing manner.  
  
The boy thought for a moment. "Someday Philly I'm going to marry a real life angel."   
  
At this response the girl child considered a moment. "But, William. What...What does an angel look like? Does one have wings?"  
  
"Not really but they are so beautiful that when people look upon them they think they see wings of light because the angels glow brightly with their goodness. Father says that's why the angel's wear masks. Even the babies when we go to see them. They try to shield us from their light so we arent hurt when we look upon their faces." The boy explained.  
  
The girl-child was quiet a moment and then began to giggle as a new thought occurred to her. "You wont ever be able to seeee her."  
  
"Sure I will." The boy countered.  
  
"How?" The toddler inquired.  
  
"Because someday I'll prove I have goodness too and when I do the angel will stop glowing just long enough for me to see her. I'll only need to see her once, Philly and then I'll never have to look again because she'll be in here." The boy pressed his fingers to his forehead. "And here in my heart. I'll see her and remember her always so any time afterwards all I'll need to do is shut my eyes and she'll be there. Forever."  
  
"But William...Arent you good now?" The girl child asked.  
  
"Mother says so, but father says I'll have to prove I'm good anyway for it to be true. I will prove it, Philly. To father and to everyone. Someday." The boy insisted.  
  
"I know you are good, William. I want to be good too, but not to marry an angel." The little girl said.  
  
"Why do you want to be good, Philly?" The boy asked her.  
  
"So that I can ALWAY stay with you." She answered._  
  
Jareth had slipped into repose as he held the Child-like Empress and they dreamed together traveling forwards, and back, and to places unknown together. Sometimes he forgot how he longed to sleep without interruption or subconscious chatter. Jareth never really slept when in repose he simply slipped into memory and messages. His dreams were more like day dreams as he floated along only particularly unaware.

 

Jareth felt a hand squeeze his shoulder and the vague realization of the weight of the child-like empress's limp form being taken from his arms, no-doubt by Glinda who would see her safely away to her secret quarters. For a moment Jareth didn't want to come out of his repose. He wanted to live out what he was experiencing for as long as possible before the feelings of the period were lost to him, but alas, he had to wake and come back to his senses. He could afford no less.  
  
"Steady now." A man with a thick Hungarian accent said so that he could prevent Jareth from startling.  
  
"Huh, Baltus. Go on. I know its you and I am perfectly aware of this nightmare I'm sitting in, like a goose being marinated in butter to be moved to the spit." Jareth muttered quietly, not having much interest or energy to say more.   
  
"Just looking out for you, my old friend. I'm going to go and find Jillian and Mag. You should retire." He encouraged him.  
  
"I want to but I cant. I've got blows coming and I'd rather let a few land now rather than save them up for a full out pummeling later." Jareth muttered. "But go, I think you'll find our friend in the fruit garden I might as well start taking audiences. I wont be able to do much now for anyone tonight but at least I can start to hear our inmates demands. Send Meriel to me when you can. I don't want to deal with all of this alone and anything I negotiate will have to go through her anyway in terms of import and exportation."  
  
Baltusar nodded though he would have rather Jareth retired for the evening he knew he would not be able to persuade him to do it."Very well. Be strong"  
  
Jareth watched Baltusar and Glinda both turn and leave the room leaving Jareth as the only one in the lounge.   
  
Once they were gone Jareth sighed. "I am so tired of all of this, yes Mab. Even I can admit when I've overstayed my welcome."

 

~@~

 

Marten's mind was reeling. He needed a shadow to duck into, a place where he could take a moment to recollect his thoughts. Frantically, he searched the hall until he finally found an open doorway. The room was a small lounge where goblin servants were serving wine. The only occupants were a young couple flirting in a corner, some travel-weary sprites, and a couple of elder women sampling the reds. He leaned against a wall and started to rub his neck. He thought of his life in the Above, before his brother ripped him from it.  
  
There were three of them at the time: Connie Rotten, Joe B. Damned, and he was Marty Stray, an awkward third wheel dragged along by a spunky runaway and her dope peddling companion. The girl was like a flame, and he a naive moth forever following the toss of her golden curls. She was all that was wild and bold and daring: all the things he could never be. She ran towards any disaster she could dive into, and she pulled him along. Joe was a good decade older, and knew the consequences of fast living. But he took their currency all the same and did nothing else to keep their vices in check. Besides, his own love of drink kept him from riding too high a horse. They had made an inseparable trio of lost souls sharing there dive into oblivion. Perhaps they spent most of the time out of their heads, but they had fun. With years and regret distancing himself from the man he used to be, Marten understood that the relationship between them was more codependent than genuine. Still, it was the first time since the loss of his mother that he had truly felt understood.

 

Then one day the life and friends he had were ripped away from him in the middle of the night. Even after the foot soldiers carted him away back through the portal, after he was locked away, after he learned of the near disasters that occurred through that open portal, Marten never felt the weight of his actions until he had heard of his daughter, the daughter who quite possibly stood in the garden outside now.   
  
Impossible. The word rang through Marten's mind like a mantra.  
  
He left the parlor and headed back into the ballroom, eyes frantically seeking the one person who could clear matters up.

  
Jareth. Why was he doing this?  
  
He watched a long haired gentleman rouse the Goblin King from his slumber. Marten hesitated. He had no wish to catch Jareth at a bad time, but it was vital for him to know what was going on. He glanced around nervously until no one appeared to be close to earshot. No one else occupied the room, but his eyes still darted around as if he was expecting someone to leap out of the wall.  
  
"Jareth" he whispered in hoarse urgency. "What in the name of all that is good and right are you thinking? I-If the council knew that you br-"

 

He seemed at a loss for words. "Gods, if Dedric knew, he'd string you up on the battlements himself! It's not that I'm not, well, I'm sure you can imagine the shock she gave me. But why, Jareth? Here? Now?!? He struggled to be coherent.

 

"For one, I can't fathom how it could possibly help you, and for another..." his excitement sputtered out into weariness "...why didn't you tell me?"

 

Jareth was in the middle of cradling his head in his hands and collecting himself before he had to face people again when Marten decided to appear before him full of questions.   
  
"Hello, Marten. So nice of you to drop in." Jareth muttered once the other man finally tried to take a breath. "I must say, I've had a fair amount of accusations thrown at me in the last several days so you really are going to have to be more specific. If you can't tell I don't have the foggiest idea of what in Hell your talking about. So with that said, do clarify so that I can decide if I want to bother defending myself. What exactly have I done to you? Hm?"   
  
Jareth straightened somewhat and crossed his legs, folding his hands into his lap patently.

 

Marten blinked. He studied Jareth's face wearing a bemused expression. The man looked honestly as perplexed as he did. His face fell, he turned his gaze to the floor feeling rather embarrassed. Of course it wasn't her.  
  
"My apologies, sire. I was touring the fruit garden with your representative, and she reminded me of..." he shook his head and cleared his throat.

 

A small part of him felt disappointed that the girl wasn't his. She possessed a remarkable warmth he thought only emanated from his kind. Perhaps she was just brighter spirited than the Above-grounders he had once known.   
  
"Anyway, it was a ridiculous notion to even come up with." Marten rubbed the back of his neck as he searched for his next words. Jareth was on the defensive, and Marten had no intentions of causing him trouble.  
  
"With my brother and all, I never got the opportunity to thank you for saving my little Lily. I know my voice holds little sway among the Underground, but I am willing to stand in your defense should the need ever arise."  
  
Marten hovered a little, recovering slowly from his former shock.   
  
"Has it been so long already, Jareth? I look at your young friend and I struggle to believe that my little girl could be that grown."  
  
He felt suddenly heavy. He had tried to forget the fleeting years, forget the moments he never saw and never would see. He hoped his own daughter wore a face like Lillian;s, a twinkling, jovial expression that surely knew pain.

 

Lilian.  
  
The corner of Jareth's dilated eye twitched.   
  
"Its hard to remember, Marten; but now that I think on it I do believe you and your girl were the last time I helped one of our own. You may have been stupid to do what you did, but you weren't wrong for it. I hope that despite your many years in exile that you realize that now. As for you and I, we had a bargain. Nothing more, nothing less. I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. but I did do the best I could for her under the circumstances. Things might have gone differently if you hadn't broken our terms. But I must admit I understand why you did it. Like all good fathers you had to see for yourself that your girl was safe. As for Miss JAndrew I have no idea who she is or how she managed to magic herself here. I have some notions I'm investigating but her visit was entirely unexpected. A certain meddling Good-neighbor is responsible for her presence I'm sure." Jareth paused as if he was thinking about something.  
  
"And you're right. Isn't it remarkable that she's exactly the same age as your beloved daughter is and that she has that sort of otherworldly charm that is so common among your people?" Jareth clicked his tongue. "My my that really is a most fascinating coincidence. But as you said she couldn't possibly be anyone you know. That would be...Far too convenient."  
  
A small amused smile crept onto the edges of Jareth's thin mouth.

 

It was as if a cascade of ice plunged into Marten's stomach. The pain of his guilt never seemed to ease when it struck him.  
  
Mim. Even the name left a sour taste in his mouth.  
  
She had been instrumental in the acquisition of his daughter. She was the one who opened the portal to the Aboveground. He remembered how his actions those many years ago had earned him the cuffs that bound his wrists. He took Mim's offer to provide the magic required to save his daughter Lilian.  
  
And what a marvelous rescue it was.  
  
But not until he had to bear witness to his poor child's suffering first hand. He would never forget the horrible moment when he first saw his daughter in person. Hidden from sight outside of Connie's kitchen window, he grasped the trunk of a tree to keep from running inside and snatching Lilian away right there. He watched Connie rage and scream at their child with a kind of cruelty he never before saw. She had changed in his absence, changed into something far darker. Was this his fault as well? The woman he had known had moments of unkindness, but he would have never thought her capable of harming an innocent child. He gritted his teeth as he saw the cigarette meet flesh, and he cried just as helplessly as Lilian. Finally, his chance came. The girl secluded herself in her pitiful cupboard under the Kitchen sink and had cried herself to sleep.   
  
He remembered standing at her side, taking in every detail of her sleeping face and knowing time was short. Marten Gwyndion knew fear; he had stood with his soul laid bare before the all-knowing Mab. But he had never before been so terrified than when he reached over and roused his daughter from her slumber.   
  
He never expected the reaction.  
  
After a few drowsy questions, she seemed to realize what was going on. She leapt from the cupboard and ran to a nearby closet dragging out a little purple backpack.  
  
"I knew you'd come for me someday!" Lilian exclaimed before dropping the bag by his feet and wrapping her little arms around him. He placed a trembling hand on top of her head and smoothed her long, jet black curls. She fished an old Polaroid photograph and held it out to him excitedly. He could clearly tell it was a picture of himself, but he had blocked his face with one of his hands. Lilian zipped around the tiny living room, collecting clothes and asking dozens of questions about magic, castles, dragons, and faeries.   
  
Flabbergasted, Marten could only mutter a few "you'll see when we get theres." He watched his child with wide, curious eyes. How could she possibly have any inkling of her true identity? Not even Connie knew the truth, but here was the child he never met before going on about how she thought she was a changeling. He didn't know what else to do except respond with some honesty. Yes, he was her father. Yes, he was from a magical realm.  
  
"I can't wait to see it, daddy!" the little girl sang.  
  
And with that, the icy cold blade of guilt plunged into his gut again. The child seemed to have made a complete recovery from the previous turmoil, her happiness blooming afresh with the promise of a true home.  
  
"Mommy said you ran away forever. She said you were never, ever coming back, but I knew you'd come and find me one day, daddy." The child babbled.

  
He smiled weakly and slung her backpack over his shoulder. He picked her up and she clung to his nec

k.  
"Bye, Mommy!" she yelled "I still love you, but I'm going home with daddy now!" Marten tried to shush her.

 

"Oh, it's okay." she chirped. "once Mommy goes to sleep nothing wakes her up!"  
  
He bundled her up in his cloak, and with the use of a little borrowed magic (for he had none of his own), they passed from the house. They moved quickly through the small town and into the adjacent forest. All the while, Lilian bombarded him with questions.  
  
"Do you live in a castle?"  
  
"A small one by my world's standards, but yes."  
  
"Why did it take you so long to find me?"  
  
"I needed to use magic, and magic is difficult to come by for someone like me."  
  


"Are you a king?"  
  
Marten chuckled."No, but my brother will be soon. I'm a prince..erm, sort of."  
  
"I have an uncle and he's going to be a king! Do I have more family? Are they excited to meet me? I'm excited to meet them! I'm going to have a real family! I'm going to live in a castle with a real bed!"  
  
Marten held his little one close to him. For a moment, he was tempted to take her home. He would have quite a spat with Dedric, but surely he would see reason. They were their mother's sons after all; they were well taught in compassion and love.

  
But he knew better. Facing Dedric would end badly for his daughter. He would never allow her to stay. Marten would go into hiding, find a safe place to raise her. He knew nothing about caring for a child, but surely anything would beat a life with Connie. He was a fugitive once again, but this time, he would know how to hide.   
  
He tried to focus, looking around for where the veil weakened between Under and Above. He heard the soft tinkling of flowing water. In the distance loomed a tall, hooded figure standing beside an ancient gondola illuminated at the front by the glowing of a lantern.  
  
"I'm scared, daddy."  
  
"Nothing to fear, love. This is just the Ferryman. He's going to take us to our world."  
  
From a small satchel, he retrieved two silver coins and placed them under his tongue.  
  
The strange Ferryman looked ask if he were nothing more than a cloak floating on its own. The hood gave away no signs of an actual face, but a deep voice came from beneath it.  
  
"Open your mouth."  
  
Lilian made a small squeak and buried her face into his shoulder. Marten obeyed. He felt the coins slide over his teeth, but felt no fingers take them. The Ferryman stepped aside and allowed them to board.  
  
"Where do you wish to travel?"  
  
"Someplace safe where my brother will never find us."  
  
"I thought we were going home" said Lilian beginning to look panicked. "I want to go home. I want to be where I belong."  
  
He had hoped he wouldn't have to use it, but it seemed the time had come.  
  
"Daddy, where are we going?"  
  
He took a tiny blue drawstring pouch.  
  
"Daddy, I'm afraid" she said as they started to proceed through the black maze of stagnant streams. Everywhere, the air smelled of decay.   
  
"Shhh, it's alright, Lilian. I'm right here" said Marten as he took some powder from the pouch and sprinkled it over her.

  
"My name's not Lilian! It's-"  
  
But before she could finish, her head dropped. She was sound asleep.  
  
Marten sighed and retrieved a small map.  
  
Dedric's forces were marked in gold. They were leaving the Astraean forests already. The false trail had failed and they were working their way towards the Black River. Damn. The river was nearly impossible to navigate, but Marten now suspected that Dedric had a means of tracking him.  
  
"Please Ferryman, can we keep my brother off my trail? I fear what will happen to my daughter if he finds her."

  
"Yes. The queen shall be protected, but are you willing to pay the toll, Exiled Prince?" The Ferryman asked him.

  
"I will give you anything I have" pleaded Marten.  
  
"No. Not me." the Ferryman replied and then said no more.   
  
Marten glanced at Jareth as his mind shifted back to the present. His amused expression gave away no knowledge of the past. It never ceased to amaze Marten that he had any soul left for his shame to eat away at. He knew Lilian had been happy here and yet Marten had bungled this refuge too. His meddling had caused far more disaster than any goodneighbor like Mim could imagine.  
  
"Far too convenient indeed." Marten agreed darkly.  
  
He heard the approach of familiar footsteps and he quickly straightened his posture. He knew before he heard Dedric's voice that he was in trouble again.

  
  


 

 

Ah, Derdric. Please, come right in. I don't think you and I have informally met. Though I'm sure our...reputations, precede us." Jareth stood and magicked himself up a new black tailed gentleman's jacket that glittered at the breast.  
  
Jareth swooshed it around himself in a magician like manner and in a blink he was wearing it. Reaching into a side pocket Jareth pulled out a pair of white kit gloves and elegantly pulled them on, tucking the edges in to his sleeve.   
  
His patience for decorum was about spent and Jareth didn't think he could stomach watching Dedric boss his brother about as if the man had no sense of his own. Jareth could tell that Dedric disliked him profoundly and that it was purely over a matter of personal prejudice rather than anything politically motivated, though he was sure that Dedric used his brother's involvement with the Goblin King as a justification whenever it was convenient. And anyway, Dedric should have counted his blessing since, had things turned out differently ,he might not be king and Marten's daughter Lilian would have had rights to the throne. Women were always preferred rulers in Astraea. Their kingdom of life worked best as a matriarchy.  
  
Now standing Jareth stepped closer to Marten, claping the man on the shoulder and leaning forward slightly so that Derdric, when he approached,, would have to keep a respectful distance from his brother and from Jareth.  
  
"Your brother and I were just negotiating some business. Was their something else you personally wanted? Hm?" Jareth had that amused but dominating smile on his face that warned Dedric to be on his guard just then.

 

Marten wanted to break free of Jareth's hand. He felt pathetic and entirely unworthy of any more of his help. If only Jareth knew, Marten thought miserably. He doubted the Goblin King would show the same amount of kindness if he knew Marten was responsible for the removal of two years worth of his memories.  
  
Dedric had spotted Marten from across the room. He knew his brother would sieze the first chance he had to speak to the Goblin King. He strode briskly towards the pair. The slightest trace of a smile played upon his lips as Jareth conjured his new clothes, once again armoring himself in black. The man was back on the defensive. Good. Even over a thousand years, the man couldn't quite entirely mask his apprehension. If there was one thing Dedric knew, it was people. He could read body language and facial expressions as well as a skilled investigator.  
  
"There you are, Marten." He noted Jareth's hand on his shoulder.

 

His lips drew thin.

 

He was not entirely sure of the exact nature of Marten's former dealings with the Goblin King, but he had a solid theory.

 

For two years, he was unable to peek into his niece's world. He was convinced it was because she had been in the Underground. One night, some years after the big trial, Marten fled Astraea once again. Luckily, Dedric had a means of tracking him as long as he wasn't Above. He knew Marten had left to retrieve Lilian. He was certain he had her in tow when he had perused him through the Black River. However, once he caught his brother at last, the child was nowhere to be seen; the boat only carried the eerie Boatman and a particularly crestfallen looking Marten. After that, it was no hassle at all to bring him back home. He didn't like seeing Marten getting so cozy, and he certainly didn't like being addressed as if he were butting in to something more important. But he was a prince and he excelled in maintaining airs. He conjured a friendly smile.  
  
"My apologies if I am cutting that business short, your majesty." He turned to Marten.

  
I just saw our Mr. Thistlegem who runs those starstone mines in the North. I recall asking you to discuss the potential for a partnership, and I believe I entrusted you with that scroll." Dedric reminded hi,  
  
Marten rolled his eyes and retrieved the scroll from his vest. "Right here, brother."  
  
"Excellent, well he's just over there, and completely unoccupied for now. The demand for starstone is increasing, and our own castle's astronomer's are looking to use it in some new telescopes. The kingdom would benefit greatly with that partnership."  
  
Marten wasn't blind to what Dedric was actually saying. Even though he spoke kindly, he shot Marten a look that said I wanted that partnership taken care of an hour ago, now MOVE.   
  
He gave Jareth a weak, apologetic smile.  
  
"If you'll excuse me."  
  
Once Marten was gone, Dedric muted some of his warmth and took on a more formal personality. He took a bold stride forward before taking a bow.  
  
"I'm glad to finally meet you in person. Marten has mentioned you several times.You know, I tried to talk Mab into hosting the festivities in Astraea this year, but she seemed quite adamant to bring the Goblin City into the spotlight." Dedric revealed.  
  
There was no mistaking it now that Dedric was here in person. Jareth was being scrutinized.  
  
"You must feel...quite honored," he said, humor coloring Dedric's voice.

 

"I should think Mab's presence here would ring a bell for you, Prince. After all, your kingdom is no stranger to unwanted visitors of...High regard. Tell me if its true, do all of your people hold a seed of Darkness in your hearts? Or is that just a convenient folktale? Their are so many rumors about people that float about our lands. I'm sure you're familiar with plenty of mine and I do assure you that, like the seed of Darkness supposedly embedded in your heart, the rumors about me are more than justified. In any case, I do feel honored. And do you know why?" Jareth smiled in a truly knowing manner that was utterly terrifying just then as he stood to his full height and leaned forward.  
  
It was enough for anyone to take a step backwards.  
  
"I know Mab is here to pass judgment over me for whether or not I adequately have been playing my part in her greater design. Whatever she decides is not particularly concerning to me, but it may be to others after the fact. Whatever happens you'd do well to remember, my dear prince, that while you are likened to a King among your people, I am a servant among mine and my people extend a great deal farther than the boundaries of this maze. If Mab succeeds in her plotting it will not be I who will ultimately have to answer for it." Jareth was trying to warn Derdric of something he perhaps didn't realize or fully understand was about to happen.  
  
"You know, Astraea isn't exactly a legendary kingdom, it is simply a benefactor of legendary happenings. You should glance back into your genealogies sometime. It just might garner something interesting." Jareth spat.

 

Dedric's jaw clenched at the mention of Lord Darkness.

 

He shot an icy glare at the mocking Goblin King. Surely Jareth knew the truth of Astraea's curse seeing how close he was to Mab and how he had dealings with Marten. The man wore a grotesque grin that sent an uneasy chill down his spine, but Dedric refused to back down from such a contemptuous fiend. He drew himself up mustering what powers of Light he possessed. A soft, faint golden aura haloed his body. Back home he could make himself radiate like the sun, but here he could only manage a dim glow.  
  
"Yes, I'm well aware of the kind of people you serve and I certainly know how far the populace of your people extend," he retorted frostily.  
  
"I also understand how the rule of law works in our world. Mab has worked to ensure the stability and safety of all people of the Underground far before you or I were even dreamt of. If you live to serve even those outside your kingdom, you might want to take a look outside your walls sometime. A strange sense of unease ripples through all the realms. Fantasia is still reeling from its near decimation, the Empyrean has lost untold thousands to plague, and yes the curse of the Darkness still holds Astraea. Twice I've kept my people from the brink of a civil war.I may not always agree with the Faerie Queen, but her judgments have always been in the interests of the Underground. I know she has done good for my brother." Dedric said.  
  
Dedric paused, absently scratching his beard in thought.  
  
"Speaking of my brother, I would like to express my hopes that whatever business you had with him in the past has reached a conclusion. If you know of my world's history, then surely you can understand my discomfort of seeing a Goblin kKng so near his side. You speak of the people you serve extending beyond your walls, well the people I command extend beyond mine." Dedric added.  
  
It was true that Dedric had eyes and ears throughout a large portion of the Underground with the exception of the lofty Empyrean, the Goblin City, and a few other corners. He tugged on his gloves and smoothed a wrinkle in his coat.  
  
"I know the sort of business you conduct and how it draws poor, desperate people like my brother. But it's never without a price, is it? You know Marten is to face Mab's judgment again soon. His conduct and behavior have improved tremendously over the years. I truly believe he is a changed man.And I know he has a past with you." He swallowed, straightened his shoulders, and bit back some of his pride.  
  
"So I want to ask you, what sort of payment would you require to be done with Marten? I'd like to settle his end of it once and for all so that he may reclaim his position with a clean slate."

  
Jareth felt satisfied when Dedric showed some spunk and gathered his power to better assert himself against Jareth. It was a pity how little the man really knew about some things. Mab specifically. Most of the people at the ball didn't know the Faerie Queen the way Jareth did. Mab liked to put on an air of all knowing placid sophistication but the truth was she only acted that way because her former impulsiveness had already caused her to lose control over one world and he knew that she wouldn't risk loosing her power in this one so quickly. People in the Underground treated Mab as if she was the one and only creature of importance. When in reality her sphere of control was quite limited.  
  
But, nevermind.

 

Mab would show her true colors eventually. And he had more important things on his mind.  
  
At the mentioning of Marten, Jareth actually moved back from Dedric and out of his personal space. "My business with your brother is done. Whatever arraignment we had, Marten managed to terminate on his own accord long ago. Contrary to what you might think, I have no power over him in the manner you're imagining and haven't for some time. In fact, when you both go from this place I intend to fully forget either of you ever graced my door. Is that sufficient to appease you?"  
  
For once all malice, sarcasm, and ingenuousness had left Jareth's tone, indicating he was speaking honestly and without ulterior motivations.

 

Dedric arched a brow.

 

He had not expected an answer so straightforward and so pleasing to his ears. He too motioned backwards to give the Goblin King back his space. He tried to keep on a formal, sober air, but he couldn't hide the grin that was playing across his mouth.  
  
"Ah. Perhaps that explains the little bout of depression he went through a few years back. My brother is certainly the finest self-saboteur I've ever met. I can't say I'm surprised."  
  
He felt weeks of tension positively melt from his shoulders. His face brightened and his voice regained it's cheerier tune.  
  
"That sounds like an absolute capital plan, Your Majesty."  
  
He studied Jareth one more time. Usually, Dedric could get a sense of a person in an instant, but Jareth was a little more of an enigma. His moods seemed to shift from severity to gentleness in an instant. Still...he thought he could peg him down in one regard.  
  
"To aid those stubborn brain cells, I'll have a servant deliver a bottle of Craespar wine from my own reserve. It hails from one of our smallest provinces high in the North. It's bit more dry and robust than the sweeter nectars Astraea is known for. Has a pleasant, sort of gingery aftertaste. "  
  
Jareth seemed to share his affinity for some of the finer things in life.  
  
"But I'm afraid I have some other matters to attend to. It's been a pleasure."  
  
He said the last word with an element of surprise. He took a deep, respectful bow.   
  


 


End file.
